Only the Lonely
by izzum
Summary: Sixth to Dez, Vigilante of the Capital Wasteland and gift to Vault 108
1. Tell Me What Should I Say?

_I have been so busy with finals and the impending holidays, that I lagged on uploading this sooner. Anyways, this is a sixth installment of the Dez series, and my own little gift to Vault 108 who has followed, adored, and reviewed the series since I believe the first one. I hope this suffices as a decent holiday gift for 108, and also hope she enjoys reading this one as I'm going in such a twisted direction that I've never tried before. Happy Holidays Vault 108 :D hope you and your son have a wonderful season!

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(Cassidy)

Nobody knows, where she came from. I don't think anyone's got up the balls to ask, either. She just sits down near the shoreline day after day. I mean, sometimes she's there and sometimes she isn't. But most of the time, she is. I don't pretend to know anything about her, but truth is I want to. Hell, everyone here wants to. Since she arrived and bought that old house on top of that small hill, everyone's been wondering about her. It's been five years now, she been here. Never said a word to no one, not even the barkeep. And hell, usually everyone talks to the barkeep.

Some nights, you can hear this eerie and waif music floating around the sky. It's usually real late, when everyone's fast asleep. Took me and everyone else forever to realize it was comin' from her. No one complained, though. Even when it woke us up, we never really bitched. Honestly, it's because it's so beautiful. This sad, spooky, beautifully haunting music soaring all from her lone open window. Dunno really if it comes from herself or some pre-tuned radio, but I can tell you, I ain't never heard anything like it before. Most folk, they look out and watch that house of hers from their window. They're entranced by it, and it's perfectly understandable, too.

I remember the first day she arrived here. Had on this…this strange armor. Instantly I knew she was from somewhere up North. It was this mercenary type wear, can't figure which. Looked like it didn't help much, though, because she was covered all up and down in these scars. Small ones, mostly, but there's one definite scar that I couldn't tear my eyes away from. I was in the bar, as usual for most people, when she came in. Looked everyone dead in the eye, and walked straight to the barkeep. Never met a man like that who could keep eyes and their head high. This ain't no quaint town, we're pretty rough. But this girl…this girl there was just something about her. When she got closer, I saw through her shaggy hair these three scars running right across her face. She looked me right in the eye as she passed me, and I can't tell you what came over me.

Never felt anything like it before. She looked at me for only a second at the longest but, shit. Those eyes of hers, dark and deep, pierced right through any guards I may have had. I felt like a scared little boy, and those eyes told me, they've seen better days. Marching right up to the barkeep, as if she knew who ran this town, she put her small sack of things on the bar and folded her arms.

"I want any home you have available."

Her voice was deep, gravelly, almost like a seductress'. I wanted so bad for her to look back at me, but she never did. The barkeep laughed and said wanderers usually can't afford the homes he has, but the girl didn't budge an inch. She stared right on through old Joe and demanded it again. When he gave her the price, she gave him double. Old Joe handed her the keys, and off she was. Didn't say anything to anyone, just up and went. I watched her leave, never once taking my eyes off her. She, never looked at me again that day.

It was a few days time after that, when I finally mustered the courage to go and talk to her. I knocked on her door and heard scuffling. When she finally opened it, those damned eyes were just as powerful. She was looking right through me.

"Hey there. Name's Cassidy."

I said to her and the damn girl looked at me like I was wasting her time. She didn't say anything back, just narrowed her eyes and the smoke twirling from her lit cigarette made mine water.

"Got a name, miss?"  
I even went so far as to take my hat off for her. You know, being polite around a woman and all. I wanted so bad for her to just say something to me, that I didn't care what it was. She didn't, though, just stared right through me with the door half-open and her eyes narrowed still.

"Well, right then, I figured I'd come and introduce myself. Maybe when you get settled in, you'd like to come round town with me? I could introduce you to some of the folk here."

That girl sighed and flicked her cigarette past me.

"No, thank you."

It was all she said to me before slamming that door right in my face. Anyone else pull a stunt like that to me I'd have shot them three times over. But, something told me not to mess with this one. Not to pick any fights or try anything smart. She wasn't like most other women, wasn't one to waste time on men and other frivolous things. She still isn't.

I been back there a few times since then, that house on that small hill. I try and go twice or three times a week. Mostly, she don't answer the door. When she does, though I can tell it's enough just to humor me. Enough so I know she's still alive and not rotting dead in there. Once in a blue moon she'll speak to me. In the past five years all I've really gotten is a paragraph from her, but shit, it's more than most folk round here get.

Not even old Joe gets much out of her. When she makes rare trips to the bar for food and drink, all she does is point to a bottle of vodka and Joe pours it. She sits in this small corner table, watching everyone, not sayin' a word. I don't dare go over to her, even though I want to. Sometimes for a minute or less I can feel those damned eyes watching me. When I look though, she's looking somewhere else, and I wonder if it's all in my head to begin with. Few other folk, women and men alike, have tried to befriend her. It hasn't worked though, and most since given up. Think I'm the only visitor she ever has and even then, it ain't nothing much of a visit. But at night, at night we hear that music coming from her home, and no matter what we think of her, we all wonder where in the world it comes from.

I think, actually, the most interesting thing she said to me was pretty recent. Bout a week ago I went up there for my usual visit. Been doing it for five years and it's like clockwork. My hand wasn't even knocking when the door swung open. Never, and I mean _never_ has that door been open wider than six inches. That day, it was wide and I got to see inside. Nothing really interesting, to say the least. But something…something really caught my eye. There was this old, terminal-looking thing laying on the counter. Not sure what it was, but it looked from afar like a vault-issued Pip-Boy. Don't know much about them, except that only those born and raised in a vault got one. A girl looking all battered as she, couldn't have come from no clean and sterile vault.

Anyways, she looked at me and I asked the usual. You know, how she was doing and all that. She never once ever really answered my question, but on that day…that day she looked right at me. Right into my eyes and right through to my bare soul. I'll admit, I was scared.

"You're one hell of a fool, Cassidy Jones."

Never knew the girl had any inkling of my last name, but shit, she did. It floored me and before I knew it, the door was closed and whatever chance I had to ask anymore questions was gone like the wind. Can't tell you her name, that girl on top of the hill. She ain't never spoke to nobody except me and old Joe, and she never once introduced herself, either. Most people made up stories to give her a definition. Truthfully, I don't think a girl like her can be given one. She don't look too old, my age, thirties really. The women around here ain't too fond of her, though. Since most of the men in town are mystified by her, they're more attracted to her. Doesn't sit well, for the wives and women.

For some time, there'd be lots of men knocking at her door. In the beginning she'd answer them. They'd ask what they wanted to ask and usually more often than not, got that door slammed right back into their faces. On a rare occasion, she'd say something stark and snide that if I heard I'd laugh at. After a while, they stopped going around up there. Stopped trying and just said she's probably into women. I've always watched that house, though. No one, 'cept her, goes in or out. I can tell, from a wanderer like myself, she's seen things. Things that she probably doesn't ever want to think about. You can tell by looking those scars aren't for show. They were deliberately put there, in the line of fire. Surprised me, when I got a good look at some of 'em. Even a gunslinger like myself wouldn't live through some of that, but here this petite girl did.

Oh don't get me wrong, though, this girl isn't anywhere near helpless. She's tall for a woman, and well-developed for someone with such a small build. But those legs are strong for running, those arms are swift for moving, and those fingers I'm sure can out-shoot any man in town. She can't fool me, because those scars have told me more about her than she probably ever will. Won't stop me from trying, though. Hell, I'm the only one she'll talk to, and the only one in town aside from Joe who's heard her speak, really. Most folk, though, they've stopped caring for her much. Aside from the hearsay, she's uninteresting to them.

I'm sitting alone at the bar tonight, as I am most every night. Don't get me wrong I have friends here, and lots of them. It's just, sometimes a man needs some time to think. Not sure what I'm thinking about, but I know I have to think. Old Joe comes over, wiping down some glasses and looking around. The bar's empty tonight.

"How you doin' with that girl up there, Cassidy?"

Old Joe asks me as I take a sip from my cup of dry whiskey.

"No more progress since the last five years you been askin' that question. Why? Found somethin' out about her?"

Joe shrugs, sighing and putting his rag down.

"Nothing more than usual. Caravan from up North came through, remember that one?"

"Sure do, big burly guy."

"Yeah that's him. Anyways, saw him up one night near the girl's house takin' some pictures. Didn't ask, didn't tell just kept about my business. Next day, the guy took off. Strange, isn't it?"

"Maybe there's more to that girl than we know. She's not from here, might have enemies. Maybe that was one of them."

"Cassidy, if that man was an enemy he'd be shootin' her up and not takin' her picture. He's working for someone, that's for sure."

"This is all great, Joe, but why you tellin' me?"

Joe sighs and wipes sweat from his brow with his hand.

"You're the only one lookin' out for that poor girl. Most folk here would rather see her gone than not. Figure you could keep an eye out, make sure nothing bad happens. Watch who's coming through town. Last thing we need, is that damned girl bringing more trouble. Our small town is peaceful, let's try and keep it that way."

"Alright, Joe, alright. I'll keep an eye out."

"Good, you had better, Cassidy."

Placing my glass down I give the caps I owe and walk out. Not going to be nosy, but I figure I should inquire or at least warn, the girl of that caravan trader. If anyone's after her she'll know. If someone is, promise you with this news she'll be out tomorrow at dawn. I hope that don't happen, though. This girl been interesting to me since she got here, that I don't know what I'd think about if she were to leave. Probably just about keeping the town safe, I suppose.

Knocking on that old front door, I hear the calls of the wild from the distance. I'll have to keep watch on them ragged Jumpers. They're closing in now, and getting at the livestock. Hearing her soft footsteps behind the door, I wait impatiently for it to open. When it does I take my hat off like usual and hold my breath.

"You never come four times."

So, she does pay attention to my efforts. Keep at something enough and eventually you'll get recognized. After five years, I'd expect nothing less.

"Miss, I came to tell you that a couple of weeks ago there was a caravan trader snapping pictures of you. Joe just informed me tonight, or else I would have told you sooner. It's none of my business, but are you in any sorts of trouble? Do you need any assistance?"

As if she can't care less, and I don't think she much does, the girl here lights a cigarette and leans against the doorframe. I think I caught her in the middle of something, because she seems less guarded and snide. Maybe she's finally warming up to me.

"No trouble I can think of, Cassidy. But if I was, I wouldn't need your assistance."

"Oh no miss I wasn't implying you did just offering help is all. You seem like the type who can handle yourself just fine."

"Oh, why's that?"

She ain't never once asked me a question before. I'm a bit, alright a lot, taken aback by this. It takes me a minute to collect myself.

"Well uh, you see it's just that you…you got some…some interesting tell-tale scars that say you've seen a lot of things. Can't figure you did them all on your own."

"No. I didn't, Cassidy. I got the one you're looking at from a Feral Ghoul Reaver in Point Lookout."

Damn. She just told me something about her. She isn't even looking at me in the way she normally does, so I'm sure I've caught her in the middle of something. Obviously, the girl hasn't had time to collect herself or else I highly doubt she'd be this open. It don't seem like she's on any chems, either. Point Lookout is near the Washington area, near the D.C. ruins and right off the coast of the Capital Wasteland. Can she really be from way up there? I mean it ain't _too_ far but when all you got for travel if your own two feet, everything is a lot further away than it really is.

"I didn't mean to be rude and stare, but I appreciate you sharing that will me. Care to tell me your name? It's been about five years."

"Has it been that long? Huh. Must have lost track of the time…"

She sounds like she's got something to do, you know, over time. As if she's getting ready to leave town.

"Do you have something you need to finish back where you're from? Sounds like you do."

"All my business is finished."

"I think this is the most conversation we've had in all this time combined."

"Yeah. It's enough."

She slams the door and I hear her walking away from it. Point Lookout, huh? If she's not a traveler, which I don't think she much is, then she's got to be from there. There or near that area. Reavers aren't mostly common in any other areas, I've only seen a few. But now that she mentions it, those scars do match their hands near-perfect. Her answers, somehow though, just add more questions to the mystery surrounding her.


	2. I'd Do Most Anything, for You

(Zack)

"Dad. Dad. Dad. Da-ad. Dad. Dad."

"What the _hell_ do you want?"

My dad's a real dope. Well, actually that's pretty mean to say. My dad is the best, really. He's just a bit too laid-back and old school. Most of his time is spent tinkering with old-ass shit from way before I was born and smoking a lot of cigarettes. He's a ghoul, though and I'm not, so when we travel around Megaton together we get a lot of weird looks from all the new settlers. Megaton hasn't gotten much bigger in population since I was little, but people have died and people have come in. Moria died not too far back, the lady who let us rent out the upstairs. Blew herself up, no shocker there really. Left the shop, bigger side-house, and basically everything to my dad. He's been running it since. A repair shop, really. He makes good money, too. Trading, selling, fixing. Lots of things pass through here. Don't tell him but I've snitched a few things from under his nose. Building my own personal arsenal for like, four years. Don't worry though, it really is going to be used for something.

"Dad I have something I _really_ need to show you."

"Alright, alright, what is it?"

My dad wipes his hands and comes over to the counter I'm sitting on. It's near the cap register and he shoes me off of it.

"Dad, I've been doing work with Crazy Wolfgang, see."

"What? What the hell you been doin' that for?"

"Dad, listen. Look, see he went a bit down South and found something really interesting. Here, take a look."

I hand my dad the pictures, and he takes a look at them. I can tell by the way his face changes, he's none too pleased.

"Zack…why the hell you still doing this?"

"Dad, come on. Look, it has to be her."

"I don't know…"

We had a pair of friends, a long time ago. When I was really small. My dad said they were my aunt and uncle, and I didn't care if they were or not, I believed him. My aunt, she was great. When I was little, I didn't think anyone in the free world was cooler than she was. She would go off and do these awesome things and have these wild adventures and ultimately, beat the bad guy. I saw her, really, as my own personal super hero. Sometimes, she'd even show me how to do things.

As I got older, and they moved away, my dad and I would take monthly trips to see them. We'd stay for a few days, and in those few days my aunt and my uncle would teach me all about surviving in the wild Capital Wasteland. Everything I know about fighting and shooting guns, maintaining weapons and preparing food, I learned it all from them. I'm damn proud of it, too, even though a lot of people didn't like her. I think, they just didn't understand her, really. No one ever did, my dad said. He said only he and my uncle and my mom ever really got close to her. I guess, says my dad actually, that was enough for her.

I never met my mom, she died when I was really little. But, my aunt…man she was the one. She was the one who helped my pregnant mom and dad to Underworld. Underworld is gone now, but still she helped them. Grandma Carol comes by a lot, to Megaton that is. She tells me that story _all_ the time. Of how my aunt brought them home, and then how my aunt went and avenged my mother's dead and saved me. Grandma Carol, she always sparkles, when she talks about my aunt and uncle.

When my aunt vanished, though, I was about thirteen. It really makes me upset to talk about what happened to my uncle, so I guess I'll save that for later. Anyways, I was really torn up and angry about the news of it all. My aunt had done a lot of good things, for a lot of people she didn't know, and to me growing up around her that meant a lot. She wasn't anything like people said, she was warm and kind and tough and gentle. Least with me. I saw her fight some badass Raiders once, and I knew that I did not _ever_ want to piss her off.

But, anyways, she went missing. My dad has since given up and feels she's dead, but I never did. I made deals with all the traders who came through Megaton. Promised them caps or weaponry and I paid up for this. I paid up big time, because this trader has been the only one since I was thirteen, to bring me anything. They're just pictures of a girl through a window, but…but I think it's her. I think it's her because…well, I just do. Like how you can pick your dog out from a big pile of dogs, you just know it's yours. Can't really explain why, but you do. I know, by looking at my dad, he feels the same way. It's just hard for him to admit it. He really loved my aunt.

"Dad, it's something. It _has_ to be her, dad."

My dad lights a smoke and sighs. He runs his hands over the pictures as he puts them on the counter.

"Zack, it's been five years. I think by now, if she were alive, she'd have come back. There's no use, chasing after something we're not sure of."

He's about to close the discussion without further argument. Usually, I respect and listen to my dad. He's the kind of guy that well, you just do. Not really any bit threatening, but he's my dad, and he's been through a lot to keep me alive. Him, my uncle and my aunt, and mom, have sacrificed a lot for me. Because of that, I turned out a really good kid. Well, I'm not a drunken Raider, but I'm a good kid. Few bottles of missing liquor goes unnoticed, anyways. This time though, I have to stand up to my dad. Show him, I'm not a kid anymore and with his approval or not, I'm chasing this. I won't rest, until I know what happened to her.

"That goes against everything she did for us, then. If she didn't chase silly things, she never would have left the vault. I wouldn't be here, you know, if she didn't chase me."

"You're right, but where are you goin' with this?"

"Dad, I'm sixteen. I'm not a kid anymore. I'm not stupid, I know how to survive out there really good."

"Zack…"

"And if you want to stay then fine, but I'm going. You can't stop me, either, because I'll just sneak out eventually."

My dad sighs. He gets this glint in his eye, that I haven't seen in a long, long time.

"You know, I knew it was a bad idea to let those two teach you anything. I knew it'd come to bite me in the ass one day."

"Dad?"

"But you're right. Go upstairs. I have to think."

I get the feeling my dad is going to talk with me about something important. The last time he sent me to my room to talk about something, was when we got the news of my uncle. It wasn't a good talk, but…I don't know. My dad has this big giant thing on being personal. All parents do sometimes, I guess. I can understand why, though, my dad's never really let me leave Megaton. I mean, I've left, but…never far. Never so far where I can't see the structure.

In my room I sit on my bed. Left the pictures on the counter with my dad. My dad he's…he's a ghoul you know. When I was growing up, I didn't quite understand the difference between ghouls and humans. Charon, my uncle, he was a ghoul. My dad, too. But Dez, my aunt, and me were human. Growing up around those three sort of makes you think everything is fine. When I got older, I started to see the prejudice that plagued this place. People around here, most of the in-and-out travelers, they'd be stark and snide with dad. I'd always get mad and ask why, because truthfully, I just couldn't understand it. Eventually I did, though. I started to understand why my aunt and uncle were looked at funny, and why people didn't believe my dad was my dad. It's near impossible, really, for ghouls to reproduce. Anyone who sees us together though, now that I'm older, knows I'm no one's son but his.

It's why my dad is the way he is. My mom died, like I said, and my dad really loved her a lot. Lucas Simms liked to tell me stories when we stopped going to see uncle and aunt. They were stories of when before Dez got here, you know, the kind I never really heard about. I never doubted the love my mother and father had, and I still don't. But…everyone, even the good Dr. Barrows who comes through once in a while to check on me says I'm a damned miracle. Being that special, the last link to my mother my father will ever had, makes him really protective. Growing up, Charon would pick on my dad all in good fun, for being so skittish. You know, how men do and play and banter at one another.

But, after they went away, I got into some trouble. A day after hearing the news, my young self wanted to somehow help. Rebel, and go off in search of the small, broken family I had known and loved. I knew things then, not nearly as much as I know now, but some. I ran into some trouble, with some Raiders. I'd never shot anything living from an animal, and I thought for sure I was going to die right then and there. But, my dad he…I never saw someone so docile and calm act that way.

He came tearing after me, like his own ass was caught fire. He shot at the Raiders, took one of them on hand-to-hand and didn't get a single scratch or bruise. I was really scared of him, you know because I'd never seen him so violent. Plus, I thought I was in serious trouble. But when they all ran away or died at his feet my dad just hugged me. He hugged me, and cried, and begged me to never do that again. Said he loved me, and that I was really stupid, but he understood.

That night, I respected my dad more than I did before. When I asked him what happened, you know. What made him go so berserk, he just sighed and lit a cigarette. He said, that when you have nothing out here, and the only thing you love is about to be taken, you fight. You fight for it, and you're damned if you give up. Then he added the paternal instincts didn't hurt much, either. I realized why, then, he never wanted me to leave. Never wanted me to wander too far when we'd walk to my aunt's and even ended up rebuilding a truck for safer traveling. It's because, he loves me. And right now, at this point, we're the only thing each other has. I love my dad, I really do.

Loving him, though, doesn't step in the way of what I feel I have to do. Crazy Wolfgang has pictures, pictures of someone if not Dez, then someone looking strikingly like her. It's a town not too far South. He gave me the location and all that. Dez did a lot for this land. Her and my uncle went through things that, I don't ever think I'd have the stomach to stand. Now that…after the incident happened, well…she might be alive. Alive and I have to go find her. Maybe, maybe if I remind her that I'm here, that my dad's here and we miss her so much, she'll come home. I understand why she vanished, but, I still feel abandoned. My dad said, though, Dez was always the most selfish and selfless person he's ever met. I guess that means, she'll give you the shirt off her back, but keep the bullets for herself. It's the best I can think of, anyways.


	3. Just a Memory

(Gob)

Shit. I watch Zack go up the steps, and my hand is still resting on those pictures. I fuckin' knew that kid was doing something with the traders, didn't know what, but it was something. Guess this is it. One day, Dez always told me, that this was going to bite me in the ass. She has no idea, how fuckin' right she is. Lookin' down at the pictures, Zack may be skeptical of who the woman really is, but I know just by glance, it's her. And I'm damned happy about that too but…sometimes, there are things much better left alone.

I suppose the beginning, is a good place to start. Alright see, after the fort was destroyed, Dez and them all came back to Megaton. Ain't never seen those two, Dez and Charon, act that way before. Shit you could tell it was the sense of pure freedom. The taste of the world and the fact that they could now live in peace. I was so hopeful for them, so proud and damn, eager to get them started on it. Things, for everyone, were great for a while. Perfect, I'd even say.

It was, I'd say three years after they destroyed the fort, when I got the news. Zack and I were preparing to drive on up there for our annual visit, when a trader came passing through. I was familiar with him, since he did trading between me and Dez when I wasn't able to get up there in a timely fashion. When he came into the shop, it looked like he'd stared Death right in the face. It's a look I've gotten use to seeing, after being with Dez for so long. I think back to that day, as I am now, and fuckin' wish it never happened.

After I calmed the boy down and he was able to speak, he told me what he'd seen. Told me what had happened. I guess he went up there, to trade and whatnot with Dez. Knockin' on her door, says it opened. He saw the biggest mess he'd ever seen. Now, Dez and Charon weren't neat freaks by any means, but they were clean. What he was saying and describing, wasn't them at all. The house was in shambles when I got there, but that's jumping ahead. Anyways, said that Charon was laying in a pool of blood and Dez was just sitting in a corner, staring at him.

Somehow, I don't know how, the trader got Dez out of there and convinced her to speak. Dunno exactly still, what happened in there. I'm assuming from the mess of stories I've gotten, that Charon had an episode. Over the years, Charon's episodes got worse. His past came back, and he chose to ignore them. Didn't know any other way to deal, I suppose. He'd wake in the night, flailing, screaming, cursing at things that weren't there. It started to happen in the day, too. He'd be fine one minute and then trashing something the next. Dez always said that he'd never hurt her. That in all his fits, she knew he'd still never lay a finger on her for harm. I'm guessing, she went wrong in that assumption.

Charon flipped that day, the day the trader found 'em. He said Dez was pretty beaten and shaken up. He hurt her, and she had to defend herself. In a blind rage like Charon was in, there was no other way. She stabbed him, and that was that. I didn't get to see her, before she up and ran away from everyone. I understand why, though, she ran. Nearly-killing your love, is something no one, and I mean _no one_ deals with easily. But, there's another kicker to this shit-storm. Which, is why I say 'nearly'.

A week or so after it went down, Zack and I were still grieving. One of the Wasteland regular traders came to deliver me a message. Acting like the Pony Express I swear. I get this letter, really hoping it to be from Dez. See at the time I thought Charon was dead as dead can be, because that's how the trader described it. But when I opened it, it wasn't Dez's chicken-scratch writing. Oh, man, did I shit a brick. Still have it, too, that letter and all the others. They're locked in my safe, where Zack can't find them. Haven't told him this bit yet, because just like he wants to find Dez, he'd want to find Charon.

I got a letter from Charon, telling me not about what happened, but basically where he was. Well, not that exactly, either. He wrote me to tell me he was alive, but not to tell anyone. That he had his past to face and he couldn't bring himself to see anyone after what he'd done. Charon's been feeling guilt, and lots of it, over things he really doesn't have control over. As his friend, I wrote and promised to keep his secret and if he ever needed anything I'd be there. As his friend still, I haven't told anyone. Lately, though, his letters have had this feel to them. As if he's near-ready to come home and find Dez. But, the both of us believed for a long time, that she's dead.

I mean it's just been forever. When she was in New Vegas I always knew she'd come back. This time, I didn't get that feeling. So I assumed the worse and kept about my business. Hid Charon's letters from Zack, and never really told him anything else except what happened and why he no longer can see them. Charon never told me the details, either. Said it was 'foggy' and that he can't quite remember, nor does he want to. His letters can range from pages to a sentence, but they come, and they come on time. I don't know, if I'll write him now, and tell him that Zack somehow tracked down Dez. This kid of mine, takes a helluvalot after Charon.

Looking at the pictures, I smoke my cigarette. Right now is something every parent fears. You know, letting your only kid fly the nest. To go off and be free in the big, wide, world. Him taking after Charon and Dez so much, it has virtues and vices. He's got the wanderlust of Dez and the keen sense of sleuthing and fighting like Charon. I'm amazed he tracked her down, but I won't let him know that. Last thing I wanted when he turned sixteen, was for him to come and tell me this. I know, too, he'll leave even if I don't want him to. He's made that perfectly clear. Well. Suppose I should go talk to him. Dez, even miles and miles away, you are still our driving force. I'm kickin' your ass for this one, kid.

Knockin' on Zack's door, I hear him sigh real loud.

"Come in."

I have the pictures in my hands, and I know he thinks I'm going to say no. Truth is, I can't.

"Zack, we need to talk."

"Did you think about everything?"

Handing him the pictures, I nod. Zack looks, so much like his mother. He looks so much like I once did, too. But when I see him, I see Nova. Even though Charon was picking on me and said Zack looked just like me, I know that…that Nova's really the one he takes after.

"…I can't stop you, from doing this, can I?"

"Dad, it's _Dez_. I can bring her home, dad. Don't you miss her? I do. You never talk about her, though. Just like you don't talk about mom or Charon."

He's still a child. As old as he wants to pretend to be, he's still a kid. Sitting down next to him, I smoke my cigarette and wish I had a bottle of vodka for this.

"Sometimes, Zack, it's better to not talk about things. Stop bein' foolish, too. Whenever you've had some inane question I've answered it so it ain't like I've kept you in the dark."

"You've kept me in Megaton."

"For good reason! Listen, I didn't come here to fight. I came here to tell you what I think about this stupid situation."

He looks at me with those eyes. Some people say he has my eyes, and he may but…all I see is Nova in there.

"That I can't go, right?"

"That you need to get your shit, clean them guns you been flinchin' off of me, and pack some food. If you're doing this you're not goin' alone. I'll fix up the truck and we'll head down as soon as you're ready."

He's so damned happy he can't speak. Zack throws his arms around me, squeezing me. I'm thinking he's more excited about leaving Megaton than he is anything else. He'll learn though, after the fun and games wear off the life out there ain't much worth living. As long as I can go with him, though, and keep an eye out and make sure it's all alright, there's no problem in going. Truthfully, I miss Dez more than I could miss anyone.

After I leave Zack to clean and pack, I sigh. I'm always somehow in the middle of the worst kind of shit. Emotional shit. I told Charon I'd keep his secret of life to myself. Told him that I'd never speak a word of his ventures to a soul. Not sure, where he writes from or where he's at. He's never disclosed that information, and I've never asked. I know he's been doing his past, and facing it and all that. Just never bothered to ask where it's brought him and he hasn't told me. Just know, by the last letters I've gotten, he's thinking of coming home. He admits to a lot of guilt and resistance to returning to Megaton, but I can tell it's simply another and the last, part of his past he has to deal with.

If this venture proves to reunite me and Zack with Dez, though, I don't know if I could keep it from her. She believes she killed him, in cold blood. Has, apparently, believed so for the past five years. Hearing he's not dead, might send her into some rage of frenzy. Maybe that or simply break her altogether. I know I can't keep it from Charon, though. So while Zack packs, I return down to my shop and scribble some things down on a piece of paper, to give to the trader to does the letters.

_Zack's taken after you. Somehow been working with the traders on finding Dezbe. She's been found, and she's very much alive. Evidence proving this, is outstanding. Damnit I knew I should have never let you two train him. But, we're heading out tonight to seek her out. We'll do our best to return her to Megaton. I won't breathe a word of you to her if I can help it. If you ever want to see her again, to face this last bit of your past, then I suggest you get your ass back here. I know it's hard, but if you don't man up, I'll just take her for myself. It's been five years. That's long enough._

_ -Gob_.

Folding it up I make sure to stuff it into a sealed envelope. Last thing I want is Zack's curious eyes falling on it. We've been doing alright these past few months, doing all well and fine. Can't say, though, that I haven't hoped for the day we could return to those three years where everything was just and perfect. Maybe it's closer now, or maybe it isn't. Charon could just not be able, to face the memory of the woman he'll never be able to hold again. But if he can, if he can find his way back home just as Dez's force has found Zack, then maybe just maybe, he can hold her again. I won't hold my breath, though.

As I'm sealing the envelope, as if on clockwork, the trader who brings me the letters walks through my shop's door.

"Evenin' Gob."

I nod, putting out my cigarette and holding the letter.

"I need this delivered."

"Alright, to the same person who wrote this, I assume?"

He pulls out a folded piece of paper, and I nod. Taking my envelope, the trader leaves. Zack thuds around above my head, and I know he's eager to hurry up and go. Shit. Don't leave much time alone to read this, then. Going into the back room, I close the door and sit at my workbench. Flicking on my small overhead lamp, I clear away small projects I've been working on. Small gun repairs, trap blueprints, things I've come to enjoy doing in my spare time. Opening the piece of paper, I sigh at the note. Charon's handwriting is precise and even, suppose even that was covered in his trainings. I feel like when I read his letters, I'm reading some palace scripted document, with how he writes and all.

_It's been long enough. I'm through, with what I set off to do. Now, there is only the recent past I must face. Do you ever wonder, Gob, if life is all but predestined? That the choices we make, people we encounter, and things we see are all supposed to happen? That, there's a reasoning, behind all of this madness. I've been alone for five years now, and have had much time to think about these things. I came to one, single conclusion. That none of us, would be anywhere near where we are now, if Dez did not come into our lives. Had she overlooked Megaton, and Underworld, I fear we both would be far worse, than we are now. Perhaps this journey I've been on has also helped open my eyes. I'm not sure yet. I'm still laden with guilt, over everything that's happened. Never, did I ever in my wildest fits imagine, I would lay a hand on Dez in harm. I suppose though, had I not, I wouldn't have been able to come and face the things I have. It would have sat inside of me, and waited. Simmering, perhaps, and becoming much, much worse than what it was._

_ I've decided that since I've done all there is to do in my power, it's finally time I return home. Loneliness suits me, although I'll admit I miss your company. I would like to see Zack, how much he's grown. To be with friends and kind people again will do my tired mind well. Is it just me, or is the old-age of ghoul setting in? In all of my near three-hundred year existence, I've never felt so tired before. I suppose, my end is coming. If that's the case, I want to be near those who I care for, and care for me in turn. Much has changed with me, for the better I hope. I'll be in Megaton this month, sometime. I'd like to rest there for a bit, until I figure out where it is, I want to spend my last years. See you soon, old friend._

I don't think Charon's ever written anything quite like this. For a time he's sent me cryptic and thoughtful letters, but never one filled with certainty. It's almost like he knows he's going to die soon. I bet it's the depression, you know, being alone for so long and whatnot. It'd make me sad, too. Plus with all that he's gone through with Dez. Both their lives are pretty messy right now, and neither one knows the other is alive. I'm not sure, how it'll complicate things for them, to find out the truth.

He's coming back to Megaton, so I'm hoping maybe, I can get Dez back here soon. A reunion wouldn't hurt, maybe it'll even make life a lot simpler. They've been through enough. Let's all just live out what lives we have, and continue on with good friend, food and drink. Nothin' wrong with that.

"Dad? Dad you ready?"

Looking over I see Zack piled high with guns, food, clothes, and other unnecessary things. If we were going on foot I'd make him lose more than half of that stuff. But shit, we have a flatbed so there's room to spare. The image, though, is still funny.

"Alright, come on, let's go."

Locking up shop, I leave the note on my workbench. No one will come here looking for it, and if they did it don't say who it's from. Zack laughs and can hardly contain his excitement. I watch him struggle with the pack, not offering help. He's a kid, and kids need to learn to own up to mistakes. I just hope, he's adult enough now, to face the possible dangers of leaving home. Not sure, what'll happen, but I'm hoping all will be well.


	4. The Old Familiar Sting

(Dez)

I found this place, this town by the sea. It's quiet here, and peaceful. There's no real danger or worries, just a small town, with the shoreline just down a small hill. Mostly, that's where I go. I go there, and I watch the ocean crash against the sand. It's not blue, like the skies and books said. It's a tangible green, and it's irradiated beyond repair. Any hope, I had of this world repairing itself, was lost when I saw the vast ocean, and how damaged it was. Any hope I ever had at all, was lost when I came here.

I don't think much, of anything anymore. There's nothing left to think about. I left it all behind, a long time ago. Locked the doors and windows, to the old life I had, and turned away from it all. Sometimes, solutions aren't so simple. Sometimes, what it takes to make a choice, is often that of self-sacrifice. With all I've done, I still, never gave enough. Maybe, if I had given more back then, things now would be different. If I wasn't so flawed, and self-centered, maybe then I would have noticed it all. Would have seen what was right in front of my face. But I never did, and this is what I live with now. Consequences aren't easy, but I live with it. I live with it, because it's the cross I was fated to bear. You can't fight fate, either. Believe me, I've tried. But in the end, after you've taken all the twists and turns within destiny's garden, and see nothing but a straight line behind you. I think, that's because, it's all there already. Chosen, so that you think you have a choice, but you never do. I accept that logic, because it keeps everything just so.

I didn't run away from it, really. There was nothing left to run from. It's better sometimes, to leave without saying goodbye. So then there's less pain, less emotion, and things are more easily accepted. To run away, means there has to be something chasing you. Nothing, was chasing me, and nothing will. All my enemies are long-gone, and all I've ever fought is finished. What haunts me now, is only the shattered and dulled shards of my memories. Things of my past, that I know will never come back to haunt me. For things to haunt you, you have to have loose ends. I can't think of any, that I've missed. But, for someone like me, it's just easier to walk away from it all, than living in an eternal state of numbness.

At least, here by the sea, I can feel something. I can feel the salt air on my face, the sun warming my body. I can touch the sand beneath me, and taste the air. It's easier, to come here and start new, than it is to stay and change. I watch the sea, all the time. I can even see it from a small window here in my home. There's a chair I sit in, and I sit, and watch the sea on the days I don't travel down to see it.

It's all I do. It's all I can think about, really. When I came here, I stripped myself of my Pip-Boy. In the same sense as some do, when they cut their long hair for short. I'm not sure, what I was searching for when I took it off. A new identity, I suppose. But the scars that line my body, the memories of my past, they'll keep me as I am. I can make a new name, a new persona, but I always have been, and always will be, Dezbe. It's just, I don't want these people to know that. Walking around with a Pip-Boy is a calling-card. It just screams you're from the vault. Last thing I wanted, when I found this place, was for anyone to know who I was, and am. I like, this solitary life I now lead. Because, now, no one can hurt me.

The only thing that hurts, enough to make tears well in my eyes, is the delay. The delay that I've had on what I came here to do. It's been five years, and I still have yet to accomplish much. A small reputation, for being the town hermit. It suits me fine, since they don't know the harm I've done. They don't know, the things I saw, the pain I've endured, and the love I felt. It's simpler, to have them not know, than have them ask. At least then, I don't have to remember it if I don't want to. Most of the time, I choose not to remember, anyways. I'm just mad, at my lack of motivation. Time flies, I suppose, when you're stuck in a stupor daze.

When I came here, I wasn't looking for a place to live. I wasn't searching for a place to belong in, either. In a subconscious way, I was looking for a place to die. Dying back in the Capital Wasteland, it seemed to cliché. Too expected and too known. For anyone out there, who still hated me by the time I left, I didn't want to give them the satisfaction of hearing about my death. No, no I want them to think I'm alive somewhere. Just, really, vanished into the mist. It's the truth, for now, and really it's better than them being smug. I wanted to lay myself to rest, in a place where no one knew me. Where my name was never uttered on their lips, where my past never reached them. I wanted, to die by the sea, because of the beauty it holds.

Deep down, I still want someone to talk to. I want to talk, to the man that comes to my door three times a week. But I don't, because I know inside it's a bad idea. I know inside, like all the others, he'll leave me, too. When you've been so downtrodden and used, you just stop wanting to get close to people. You stop wanting the option of being hurt. If you don't let anyone get close to you, don't let anyone penetrate the walls you've so painstakingly put up, then you don't get hurt. It's a sad, and lonely existence, but it's one I prefer, really. With all the hurt I've felt in my life, I'm done with it.

When this all began, when this whole adventure I call my life started, I was so naïve. So full of aspirations, in a young-girl sense. The world was at the tips of my fingers, and I could do all the good and evil I wanted. Yet…yet I knew deep down, I was missing something. Deep down I was sad, lost, alone and scared. That little girl inside, who was always so docile and quiet, came out over the years. When dependency and emotions and selfless caring were knocking on my door, that small girl woke up. Sometimes, mostly now, I wish she had stayed quiet.

It's not that I regret what I've done, only how I did it all. I would do it all again if I could, but differently. So different, and with much more wisdom and grace than I ever had before. I have this notion, that if I did it differently, things would end up different. But, then again, I think this path was already set for me, so in the end, it would have just been the same. You know, it never snowed again in the Capital Wasteland. Just that once, when I was fleeing. That one moment, day really, it snowed. I didn't care much, for the snow, but I'd like to see it again. You always want to see something once more, before saying goodbye to it all. I guess, with strange things, that's how it goes. Because with things that matter, I chose not to say goodbye to and see again. It was easier. Snow, doesn't have emotion. It just is, and that's how I'm liking things.

It feels like there's something I missed. One of the reasons, I suppose, why I haven't given it all away yet. Because somewhere in my heart, I believe there's still something worth living for. It's been five years, though, and I can't continue to hold on to silly pipe dreams. It could just be the fear, of going off and never turning back. I think…I hope…when I close my eyes this final time, that I can see Charon. That when I open them again, he'll be there with me. He'll smile at me, and take my hand in his. I'd give this life away in an instant, if that was assured to me. If that…that was promised.

There's nothing, I want to see more, when I open my eyes. But every morning, when the sun peeks through the torn curtains of my room, I see nothing but the ceiling and walls. I never see him, even though I'm plagued every night by his image in my dreams. You never know, how much a person means to you. How much of yourself relies on their very presence, and how much emotion you've invested, until that person is gone. Until, you know for sure, there never going to be there again. That they'll never hold you, touch you, kiss you, and lift you way up high and take your pain away. I wish, I appreciated it all so much more, when I had it.

I try to feel him. Try to feel him in my dreams, but I'm always left with this empty and desolate feeling. When we retuned to Megaton, when the whole annihilation of the Brotherhood was through, and there was no one left to fight, I felt like I could breathe again. That it would all be alright, and there was a happily ever after in my future. I guess, though, that's still just in fairy tales, not real life. For a while, for a good three years, it was bliss. It was perfect and caring and all that is good in the world. There were bad times, but that was okay. I needed those bad times, to make me appreciate the good. I just…was foolish in thinking it would never end.

Today, every day since, I've tried to kill it all away. Forget that memory, and the memories of the past. But…you can't. No matter how hard you try, you simply can't. I've wanted nothing more, than to forget the look in his eyes. The way they shined over, and the way that gasp of air froze time. Since that day, I've done nothing but hate myself. I didn't have to, there could have been a million other ways to do it, but I couldn't see them. I couldn't stay, after that. For years, I've asked myself what I've become. Who am I now, if I'm all alone? Am I simply Dezbe, no longer the vigilante of the Capital Wasteland? Or instead, am I nothing more than another person in this world filled with people?

If I didn't feel the pain of that memory, and the pain of my past, I don't think I'd remember I was alive. It seems to be the only thing that's real, and tangible. As if I can touch it. So, I guess, it's a sick comfort. Knowing, everyone in the end goes away, is an old pain that keeps me from a new pain. People, don't need to get close to me. I'll let them down, hurt them, leave them. I've done it, to my friends and those so near and dear. To save everyone, to save myself, I'll give this last sacrifice. I gave up the only place I knew of, to come to someplace new and…just stay away. Staying away, will save all those I love, so much more pain.

Staring out the window, it's too dark to see anything. Lights inside people's homes make small dots on the land, but that's as close as I'll ever get to being inside. I can watch everything from here, and most of the time, I do. Five years, is a long time, when you've been so solitary. At times I've toyed with the idea of going back, the idea of returning to the place I once called home but…I don't think I could ever do it. Because now…how could I? Wouldn't that be, one of the most selfish things for me to do? Like I've purposely made Gob worry over me, when all this time I've been well and fine. I hope he hates me, you know. I hope he thinks I'm long-dead and gone, too. I don't deserve him worrying, I don't deserve really, anyone to care. No one really does anymore, and that's alright. I've taken enough from the people of the Capital Wasteland. Taken enough and never given back. I hope they see this, as my own personal give-back. That…that I'm trying and it's hard but hell I can do it. I hope, at least, they remember me fondly. It's okay, if they don't, though.

I don't even know the name of this town, actually. It's not like I care enough to. When you give things names, you create some form of attachment and identity with that person or thing. After that, they're no longer a random, but a living and breathing thing. When I think about this, and then back to my past, I wonder what would have been different, if Charon never told me his name. Would I have cared? I don't know. It's questions like that, that can keep me awake at night. Knowing I can't change any of it, doesn't give me much comfort. Knowing I'm not taking action on my future, is what keeps me awake to think of such things.

But, if I didn't think of the past, what would I have to think about? What would I have, to remind myself every day of why I came to this place? Nothing, really, if you ask me. It's the past, though, that keeps me from doing it. The past that has such a tight hold on my very actions and words these days. Charon…he tried, so hard, to save my life, while I mercilessly tossed his away. Guilt beyond description, it's the true thing that causes me to wake every morning. It could be defined as a torture, as Charon's last attempt I guess, at revenge. But…in my head I have to ask him, how can I simply throw away this life, that he's worked so hard to save?


	5. Far Away

(Zack)

He takes for_ever_ getting his shit together. I swear. He's not even carrying anything. All he's doing is looking at the stupid sky while I'm loading everything in the back of the truck. Leave it to dad, though, to relax around excitement.

"Aren't you the least bit excited?"

"Nope."

Alright then, dad, way to be optimistic.

"Why? We're going to see Dez, don't you miss her?"

"You know I do. It's just best to not overreact in case it's a mislead."

"You're so negative, dad."  
He laughs at me as I finish loading up the flatbed. Brushing my hands together, I walk over and let myself in the truck. You know it's really stunning to me that dad isn't believing this is Dez. I mean, the lady in the picture has longer hair and whatnot, but things change. People change, with time and all that. There's no way it can't not be her, though. No mistaking those scars, really. She should have like, fixed them if she didn't want to be found. I guess she didn't expect anyone to look for her, either. Dad starts the truck and we're both quiet. Really there's not much to say. I don't know what we'd talk about, we always talk about dumb things. I guess right now is too serious for dumb-talk, though. I got nothing to say, anyways.

I wonder if she'll recognize me? You think she might? I don't know I mean, I've grown up since the last time we saw one another so I don't really think so. But she could. There's always those rare people who, even though they haven't seen you in _ages_ they still recognize you. So, maybe I think, she's one of them. We spent so much time together, that I just think it'd be hard for her not to remember me. The thought of seeing her again, after all this time, makes it really hard to sit still.

"What the hell you jumpin' around for?"

My dad lights another cigarette and I look at him. Forcing myself to settle down, I sigh.

"I'm just excited. Why aren't you?"

"Dunno. Figure it's a waste of energy. You'll learn soon enough."

"Dad, we're in a _truck_. I don't think anything severe is going to happen."

"You know, that's something an amateur would say. Want to know what Dez would say?"

"What?"

"That something will happen regardless and it's best to keep an eye out and not annoy your father."

I narrow my eyes at him, and he gives me a sideways look.

"No she wouldn't that's stupid."

"You're right. She'd probably say something more like that. Can't say I didn't try though."

Smiling, I put my head back on my seat as we travel further and further south. You know, I've never been this far out of Megaton. Looking out the window, I'm disappointed that I don't see anything. There's nothing, but the same repetitive things, over and over again. Rocks, dirt, dead bushes and dead trees. Small ponds have developed in some places, thanks to the rain and whatnot. My dad said there use to never be rain. Not sure I could live in a place this hot, if it didn't cool down once in a while.

My dad says a lot of things, though. Like how there use to be a ghoul-city in the Museum of History. Not sure where that is, but he says that forever and a day ago, it was the place for all ghouls. Anyone could go there, I guess, even though it was ghoul-only. So long as they didn't start fights. I want to see that place, even though dad claims that it's long gone. Even so, it'd be nice to see a bit of my history. It is my history, too. I mean, my dad came from there, and mom and him went to stay there. Grandma Carol and Grandma Greta lived there, but now they live in Tenpenny. I don't ever go to Tenpenny, they always come to Megaton. My dad, he doesn't like me leaving much. I know why, it bugs me, but it's okay.

Still, it's really hard to stay in Megaton, when I'm filled with all these stories. From what I heard about Dez and Charon when I was little, to whatever I can pump out of my dad, this outside world sounds so…so amazing. I know it's dangerous, and I know it's scary, but I mean, look at me. I've been raised in Megaton my _entire_ life, only really leaving to just see Dez. I've never been to the city, or to The Pitt. I want to go, and see it all in the worst possible way but…but I can't leave my dad. I know, what it would do to him. Most kids, my age and older, they've left already. Harden he's left Megaton, and I saw what it did to Simms. It looked like it really hurt him. My dad, even though he doesn't show it, is way more sensitive than he looks. I know if I left, it'd near kill him. I can't do that to him.

Even if he gave me his blessing, and packed my bag for me, it'd still be hard to leave him. He's alone, without me. He doesn't make friends or go out to the bar. I asked him why once, when I was younger. When I asked him, he just sighed and said all he needed was under one roof, and he didn't feel life was about going to bars when you're a parent. In his terms, I guess that means he just loves me more than other parents. Well, maybe. I'm not sure. All parents love their kids, but…my dad just loves me a bit more it seems.

"Hey dad?"

"Yeah?"

By now my dad has tossed his cigarette from the window, and he's driving the truck over the hard terrain like it's nothing. At times we're bouncing around like crazy, and anyone else would be scared shitless. I mean, this place doesn't exactly have the best driving routes. But I trust my dad. I always have.

"…I'm glad you came with me."

He looks at me and gives a smile. I nod and look away. It would have been so hard for me, to do this on my own. I would have though, I know it. Because I would have come back with Dez, and then the three of us would be together again and it would be like the old times. Maybe not all in the same, but something like it. After all this time, I think my dad deserves some company outside of me. I know how much he cared for my aunt, and I know how much he misses her. So for him to up and leave the shop, to come out on something I want to do that still might not be the truth, is big. He's always sacrificed things for me, but I never knew how much.  
"You know, Zack, we went through hell and back to get you."

"What?"

I stare at my dad while he stares out at the vast Wasteland. His ghoul-self never bothered me. I never thought he was different.

"You know, Dez went and got you back from Sara and Gunny. Just seems a bit ironic that now you're chasing her when for a bit, she was chasing you."

"I guess I feel the subconscious need to repay my debt."

"Guess so."

"Dad, you ever think about Charon?"

"All the time. Why?"

I sigh and play with my hands in my lap. I think about Charon all the time. I don't know about his past, though. Just that he was big, brave, and not to be messed with. Oh, and that he loved Dez a lot. I shouldn't leave that out.

"What was he like? I mean, his past. Was he always that big?"

Looking over at my dad, I can tell this is a hard question for him. His face sets in thought and I can almost see the words as he thinks them, running across his eyes. He gives a deep sigh, and scratches the side of his head.

"Charon's past is littered with a lot of things, Zack. I'm not sure if telling you is such a bright idea."

"Why?"

"Because you have this image of him. It's a good image, and I don't think you see any wrong with him. If I tell you, hell it might ruin that image. I wouldn't want to do that to you."

"Dad, whatever Charon did, it doesn't matter to me. I'm curious, but he never did anything to hurt me. Never did any wrong by me, or any of that. It wouldn't ruin how I remember him."

Dad gives me a look, and I think it's one of those 'wow you've grown' kind of looks.

"Charon was…well I ain't too knowledgeable on his past. But from what I do know, he was a very well-trained mercenary. Now, you have to understand he was a…pre-war ghoul. Which means he was pushing three-hundred when you knew him."

"What? Really?"

"Mhm. Back in pre-war times, he was part of this organization. Not too clear on it, or what it did, but I can tell you it wasn't pretty. Shit, Charon was one of the best killers, hitmen, whatever in the world. But he was brainwashed and contract-bound."

"Contract?"

My dad lights another cigarette, while I listen keenly. This, is pretty interesting because I never knew it before. I've only known about Dez's past, never Charon's.

"Yup. Loyal and abiding to whomever holds it. We crossed paths in Underworld with that piece of paper. Eventually, it fell into the hands of Ahzrukhal, a pretty fuckin' bad man if you ask me."

"And what did he do with it? I mean, the contract?"

"Well, after making Charon be a bodyguard in his bar for a few long years, Dez came in. She came with the gun on her back and left with a mercenary. After that, and after a fuck-ton of obstacles, Dez broke Charon free of that contract."

"Free?"

"Yup. Before Dez, Charon was just a marble statue that could kill you. It's why…what happened, happened. Ya know, between 'em and whatnot. Charon's past came to haunt him, with the newfound emotions and his body going through changes. It took a while for it to all catch up, but it did in the end."

"What do you mean his past?"

"People he killed, people he worked for, things he did and didn't do. Guilt is a strong thing, and when emotions weren't part of your hardware for two-hundred years and then they all of a sudden hit you, shit gets serious. Charon didn't know how to deal. But, remember Charon wasn't a bad man because of what he did. He simply was misguided."

"Dad, I don't think anything bad about him. It's alright. I can…sort of understand I guess. Not really but…maybe when we see Dez, she'll tell me?"

I get a look from him that's serious and solemn. We hit a bump, and the truck jolts for a second.

"I wouldn't go askin' that. If we find Dez, and this woman is her…then just don't ask. There's some things about a woman's heart, that's better left untouched."

"But if she openly offers?"

"Then that's another story. Till then, if it's her, just stick to being happy with seeing her again. Don't bring up Charon, because I'm _sure_ that'll bring a lot of pain. There's enough suffering in this world, and she's suffered enough."

I get what my dad's saying. About how there's some things not to ask a woman. I always thought, though, that Dez was stronger than all the other women. You know, after all she's done, I've just always held fast to the idea that she could handle anything. Only recently, really, did I start toying with the idea that Dez is actually as sensitive as me or you. Just…growing up with her being some strong and seemingly invincible woman makes it hard for me to grasp that she feels pain just as me or dad does.

Even though I'm older now, my dad is right. I do have this idyllic vision of what Charon and Dez are. I still think, somehow in the back of my mind, they're these superhero-type beings. You know, hell-bent on saving the world from all of it's evil-doing people. But, that's not them. They're human, just like me and just like dad. I want to believe, though, that they're still superheroes. There are some childish things, that even adults want to hold on to. I'm not an adult, but I want to be. After all, being a kid out here, isn't much fun. At least if you're older, you're experienced and have stories to tell. Me? I don't have anything, and when people look at me, most of them laugh. A kid who's never left Megaton. Great.

"Dad?"

"What?"

"Think she misses us?"

"I think, if this is Dez, then yes, she does."

"Why'd she leave then? Why not come back?"

"Dez sometimes does things, and gives no explanation. This is one of those things."

I feel the mood shift downward. I don't want this to be a sad time. I want me and my dad to be really, really excited to see Dez soon. I may not ever see Charon again, you know because of what happened but…but I can still see Dez, and so can't he.

"What was it all like the first time? I mean, when you all first met?"

Just as I had hoped, a smile creeps over my dad's face. Even if it's only about a memory, it's a smile. He doesn't do that enough.

"Nope. I met Dez before Charon did, and when she came back to Megaton dragging his ass close behind, it was a sitcom waiting to happen."

"Sitcom?"

"Never mind. It was funny. Dez would get drunk, Charon would remind her he was not her babysitter, and there'd be some sort of incident that made me laugh the hard day away. I don't think I was ever really sad when they'd come see me, even if the circumstances were. I'll admit, I miss those old days."

"Think if Dez comes home, she'll laugh like that again too? And you will with her?"

"Zack, we don't even know if this is her again. Stop giving yourself such high expectation and hopes, sometimes it's good to not look up. Then, you won't be disappointed."

I know, dad, I know. But, what else really is there to hope for? Without Charon or Dez, what does this Capital Wasteland stand for? I don't think a lot of people really realize just how…how significant they were to this place. How it's survived so much, because of them. I suppose they wouldn't know what dangers and horrors they've nearly missed, though, because Charon and Dez stopped them. I don't even know what would have happened, and I don't really want to.

"…Mom was out of your league, but you still hoped. It's different, but it's still hope, dad."

We look at one another, as the truck climbs over rocks and dirt, only running smooth for a short time before hitting another bump. He doesn't say anything, and looks away. I don't say anything, either. I guess, I just want Dez back so we can go back to the beginning. Go back to those days filled with fun and laughter. Since it all fell apart, I haven't heard my dad laugh like that. I haven't heard him tell a good joke, or share a story so vividly. When Dez vanished, she took a lot more than just her own body with her. I just wish she knew, how much followed her.


	6. My Empire of Dirt

(Charon)

My bones, finally feel the weight of my body pressing down on them. My legs, are weary with age and miles. My feet, can no longer sustain the heaviness that they carry atop them. My arms are not as swift, my thoughts not as quick, my reactions are slowing, and I feel the sense of old age, swiftly setting in. It has been, a long life for me. A long, tumultuous, strained life. One, that soon I will be able to depart from finally in peace. At ease, with all that I have done, and silent to my past. What's done now, is final, and there are no more secrets I have left to hide. No more questions, that are unanswered. I suppose, this is what it feels like, to no longer carry any burdens. I suppose, this is freedom.

I want to lie down here, on the ground I'm walking. Lie down, and close my eyes and allow the changes of time to finally take me away. Take, what no other man or woman could take from me. But time, it is not necessarily taking it. Rather, I am giving it. Giving it away, for any who wish to have it. There's no more reason for me now, to walk these beaten paths. To continue on, with the need for life as I once had. I've faced my demons, my past, and no longer have anything left to fight. It's a strange feeling, to be born for purpose, and yet have none. I'm not sure, that I'm enjoying it.

For five years now, I have traveled and visited the places I once occupied. From Vault 101 to the ruins of Underworld, to the Citadel ruins and other such areas of the Capital Wasteland, that are now long-forgotten. Slowly, minutely, I have pieced together the broken remnants of a life I once knew. Even slower, I have repented, for all I've done. With each old question answered, a new one would arrive. With each new question, came a new quest. One, that I could not bring anyone with. One that I had to do alone, and alone I have been for five years. I cannot remember a time, when I was ever alone for this long. When I was ever alone, at all. I found peace, in solitary. I found ease, in silence.

Although the passing of time and the strenuous activity has put my body through wear and tear, I refused to give up. Refused, to lie down and accept death as my ultimate savior. No, no death could wait. I was too far busy, to let death ruin my plans. There was no way, I could have rested easily, when so many things were left to be done. Each night, I fought the weariness and pain of my old bones cracking. Each morning, I forced myself through near-arthritic pain, to rise and wake. I'm not sure, where these pains came from, where the bitter sense of age rose up from. My only assumption is, that with the weight of it all piled atop a body that's been abused for so long, it was only a matter of time before the effects took place. A matter of time, before the pain of my training, and the scars of warfare took its toll on me. Bones that were broken centuries ago, now ache with each movement. Muscles that are scarred with memories, are sore and stiff to the touch. I cannot relax them, cannot stretch them out. I accept now, it's my near time to leave. I carry very little guilt, these days.

I want to lie and rest in Megaton. It's been so long, since I've had company. Since my voice has been used, that I'm not sure if I can even still speak. I've talked to no one, not even myself, for five years. Traders who take letters to Gob, simply know by the name on the envelope. Know, by the scrawled word of 'Megaton' where to bring it to. There's no need, for me to speak. I don't want to speak. I simply want to remember how it felt, to be surrounded by people who you know. People, who care for you, as if you were their own.

There are a lot of things; I've come to learn on these five years alone. A lot of things I hadn't realized, or hadn't appreciated. Things, that I never would have known before, or learned without coming. Before, I took Gob's company for granted. Saw him, as nothing more than an annoyance within my own life, and someone who need not put his nose in my business. Now, I see him in an entirely different light. I see him, as an equal, a friend, and companion. I can only hope, that when he sees me, he accepts me the same way.

I wouldn't be mad, if he hates me. Wouldn't be shocked, if he turned and shunned me away from his home. I deserve it. After what I did, what I could have done to Dez, I deserve kindness and empathy from no one. Even now, after so long, I still cannot think about that day without feeling a crippling sense of hurt and dread within my stomach. I shudder, as I light as cigarette whilst I walk. My old shotgun rests easy on my back, as the wind pushes me towards Megaton. The thought of returning to the place I once called home, eases my tired mind just a bit. But, the memories of that day five years ago, rouses me into an uncomfortable state.

I've only just recently been able, to deal with my past. Only after I went back, to each and every spot, to each place I made a kill of a child or woman or innocent man, was I able to face my memories without issue. Without, blackouts of rage, and spans of time gone missing. Had I known, that my past would come back with a vengeance as my emotional range widened, I would have dealt with it sooner. Before, any harm, could come to those I held close and dear to me. Before, I nearly killed the only person, I can now ever say, I truly loved.

It's still blurry to me, even now, that day. All I remember, is the searing pain of my own knife pushing into my chest, and the sight of Dez as I held her in my hands. Not arms, but hands. Her neck, fit perfectly between my palms, as I squeezed. I don't know, how long I held her there, with her feet dangling inches from the ground. Or how long, I had been holding her neck in such a tight grip. All I know, is that without the blade of my knife piercing me, I wouldn't have been able to stop myself. I would have woken from my blacked-out rage, to Dez laying dead as every other person I've slew in the past.

I couldn't utter a word to her. I couldn't call her name, as she stared down at me. Couldn't say anything, to the tears that splashed down from her face. I refused to. I closed my eyes, as I felt my own blood leaving, and I held my breath until I heard the door slam, and knew that it was safe. She had been with me for three years then. Three years, of happiness as happiness is. Endured, blackouts of rage, of sorrow, of times I can't account for. Loyally, standing by to help bring me back into the world she so strived to introduce me to. I loved her more than I ever have before, in those three years. Unyielding loyalty, trust, and love. Each night, as we laid to rest in the comfort of one another's arms, she'd always remind me that she trusted me to never hurt her. Even blacked out, she would say, I would never lay a hand on her. I wish, that her trust in me wasn't so deep. Wish, that she was scared of me. Maybe then, perhaps, I could have saved us both.

I don't know now, where she is. Gob says in his letters, that he has no idea either. I think, it's for the best. I know in my heart, she wanders somewhere, living in this world that she helped create. It's better, that we never see one another again. After facing all the torments and secrets of my life, after going back and retracing nearly two-hundred years of pain and hurt that I bestowed upon others, I still cannot stomach seeing her face. Cannot fathom, ever encountering her again. How could I?

After all the years she spent, devoted to me. After all the time she's invested in me, how could I face her after nearly killing her? There's no way I can. No way, that I can ask her to return to my side, after five years of absence and an attempt on her life. It's better, that she live now without me. In fact, as much as the thought of her with another person angers me, I hope she is. I hope she finds someone who deserves her. Although, since leaving, I've thought a lot about Dez and all of her qualities. Good and bad alike. There's no man, really, quite deserving of a woman like her. But in all the same, I hope she's happy. Hope wherever she is, she's smiling, content, proud and witty as always. I wouldn't want her wasting anymore time on me, then she already has.

I'd even enjoy it, almost, if she hated me. I deserve nothing less and nothing more. I always toyed with the thought, that our paths might cross again. On those cold nights, where the rain would refuse fire, I'd often think about what would happen had she come walking over the horizon. A part of me, wanted to run up and embrace that image. Apologize time and time again for my actions and beg for her to forgive me. But, then at the same time, another part of me wants her to hate me. Wants her to walk right past without a second look, and ignore any words I may have to say. It's that outcome, usually, that I always feel I deserve.

In my efforts of redemption, I even went so far as to write a letter to Lily. Nothing filled with romance or forlorn feelings, but simply stating what I stated to Gob. That my life is drawing near, and I hope she can forgive whatever wrongs I've done to her. Not that she is the most important figure in my life, but she is a figure. A person I hurt, not intently but hurt nonetheless. I'm trying, to end my life with as little guilt, as little mystery, as I possibly can. All I carry with me, all I want to carry, is my gun. My combat knife, is long-gone. But I don't worry about it, or fret. I know where it is. Dez took it with her when she left. Something tells me, she still has it.

When I get to Megaton in a few days time, I hope to have a hot cup of whiskey and a soft place to rest my head. I know warm whiskey is hardly appetizing, but when I found a simmering bottle beneath the desert son, I enjoyed the taste it had on my lips. Perhaps that was due to the dehydration I was feeling but, I'll soon find out. I don't want lavish things around me when I choose to lie this body down. Just a good drink, and good friends. It's not much to ask, after all this time I've spent here on Earth. Even if I didn't have that, though, I'd still be leaving this world with more than when I came into it.

I often ask myself, if my purpose was fulfilled. Not that I've found my definite purpose, but rather the one that was given to me. The one I received when I was initiated and accepted into the high-security training grounds of my facility. To be, the most efficient and quiet killer, that I could be. By no means am I quiet, but I have done my duty. Not under an employer, but I have fulfilled what they set out to do. What they wanted me to do. I've killed efficiently, taking down the most heavily organized military bases within the Capital Wasteland. That was, my set duty, I believe. Of course, it was all done with the aid of Dezbe. I can only hope now, to rest in peace with all of this. And hope, that one day before then, the plague of Dez's memory won't haunt me anymore.


	7. Running Away

(Cassidy)

Ain't nothin' real special about today. Just a regular day, with the regular people. I took the time to go around town and ask anyone who passed how things were doing. Most folk say they're doin' alright. A few had complaints, nothin' serious. Mostly about them Jumpers near the cliffs. I really should do something about them but I can't figure what. After all they're just a mild annoyance. Only been killing the small amount of Brahmin these wannabe farmers have. Not like they're breaking into homes and killing family members. Even if that was the case, and things like that were happening around here, it wouldn't be the Jumpers. They're no smarter than Deathclaws, and hardly as vicious. Still, it might be interesting if something happened. Even if it was that.

I'm just about halfway to the bar when I see something rather uncommon. I glance down at the shoreline, you know, for that girl. She ain't there, though. I mean, some days she's not there but this week, she hasn't been down there at all. It's something funny, and I wonder if it has something to do with that cryptic conversation we had just the other night? Looking up at her house, I see something shift against the old open window. Hell, maybe she saw me. Even so I doubt she'd care if I noticed. Still, I keep watch.

I stop moving and pull my hands away from my gun. It's just force of habit for me, you know to keep my hands near my gun. Believe it or not I was quiet the gunslinger in the old days. I act and talk like I'm near fifty, when I'm not even close to forty. I guess this life will do that to you though. Make you feel older than you already are. Wonder if that girl up there, wonder if she feels the same? All them scars she has, it eventually has to take a toll on her. Maybe that conversation we had was her way of saying it's time to move on out. She don't seem like the type to stay in one place for very long. But, then again, that's a lot of 'maybes'.

As I watch her house, I see something peculiar. I watch the girl leave, and even though she's a ways away I can feel her eyes watching me. She takes no rush in walking, like she's got all the time in the world. Still after this long, everything about this girl invites me in and interests me. Like she's some goddamned siren of the sea. Hell, I don't move an inch because the way she's getting closer and the way she walks is so enticing. It's that 'I can take any one of you in this town with my own to fists and laugh about it later' kind of air. She owns this place, and I'm no match for her. Everyone knows it, and I think for that, everyone hates her.

My voice is caught up in my throat as she gets closer and closer. There's no doubt in my mind now, that she wants to talk to me. If she didn't, she would have turned to her right and gone down the path to the bar. Ain't no other reason she'd walk this way, with her eyes dead set on me. No one else around. It's almost dusk, and everyone's too nervous of them Jumpers to stay out late unless they have a gun. Shit, the Jumpers are the least of my worries. They're no bigger than a wild dog and no more vicious, neither. Just hungry is all they are, really.

"Cassidy Jones."

The girl walks right up to me, standing about three feet away. She addresses me like she's a regular in this town. Suppose after five years, she should be. But, I don't think it counts, since she never leaves her house.

"Well, for once you sought me out. What can I do for you lil' lady?"

Her eyes narrow, those dark and piercing eyes. They look right through me, and my façade. A shudder goes up my spine.

"For one you can never call me that again."

"Alright fair enough."

"For two, you can give me a smoke. I didn't go down to the bar to stock up this week."

I nod and figure that's not much to ask. After all she's never asked anything of me in the past five years she's been here. Other than to leave her alone, really. But shit, I light her a smoke and hand it over. She takes it and puts it between her lips like she's kissing her long-lost lover. Although, I doubt she has one. It'd take a brave soul, to love her. Maybe I'm just a coward, then. Still it entices me just the same, the way she inhales and the smoke creeps from those plump and near-ruby red lips. It dances there for a minute, before the wind takes it away.

"I've spent enough time here, Cassidy Jones."

"It's just Cassidy."

"Whatever. I'm going to leave soon. Figured before I do I'd come and say goodbye to the one person who cared enough to try and befriend me while I was here. Didn't mean to stay so long."

"Mind if I ask where you're heading off to?"

She frowns a bit, her perfect mouth pointing downwards for a quick second. Rocking on her heels, she stares up to the orange and pink sky above. I notice an old knife strapped to her waist, one I don't remember ever seeing before.

"The stars. I'm shooting for the moon but, I'll probably miss that."

I chuckle at her, and she gives a quick smile. It's gone faster than it came, but I catch it.

"So you came all the way down here just to say goodbye?"

"No. No I came down here because I didn't want to leave this place without someone knowing something about me. Even if it's not much, it's better than the rumors that fly around."

"You know about those?"

"You'd be surprised what you hear, when you're quiet."

She tosses the cigarette I gave her to the ground and grinds it in the dirt with her heel. Her boots are old and worn, her armor is still something to be questioned.

"So, what do you want to know?"

She asks after a moment of silence, after she's done toying with the dirt. There's a childish air about her, even though she can't be much older than me. In fact, I think I'm younger than her.

"Your name for starters, would be nice."

"Dezbe. But, they'd just call me 'Dez' for short."

"Just 'Dez'? No last name to account for?"

Then she does something odd. She looks away, north really, and stares for a minute. Like she can see something on the horizon. I don't bother to look because she has the same face a drunk makes when they stare at their empty glass. Finally, she blinks, and looks back at me.

"Fossum. Dezbe Fossum."

"Well it's finally nice to make your acquaintance, Miss Fossum."

We shake hands. She has a strong, powerful handshake, and it makes me proud. Proud, to be allowed to shake her hand.

"My name can't be all you want to know, Cassidy. I'm sure there's five years of questions bubbling up inside."

"There is. But why don't we take it to the bar and have a drink? We can sit down and relax."

"We can sit down right here and frankly, I don't want to go to the bar. Nothing there I need."

Alright she has me there. We walk over to two big boulders and sit on them. She pulls her legs under her, like a child would, and stares off into the setting sun. Call me crazy but now that I have the opportunity to ask all the questions I want, I can't seem to find any worth asking. As if this woman truly is something special, and not just a girl I think highly of. Like you need an appointment just to be in her presence.

"Ask away, Cassidy."

Her tone is impatient and almost mocking. I can tell she feels she's wasting her time, but doesn't want to leave without making a mark.

"Alright Dez, where'd you come from?"

"Vault 101. Up in the Capital Wasteland. It's a couple weeks from here if you're walking."

"You mean the D.C. area?"

"That's right. Been there?"

I shake my head and light a cigarette.

"Nah, but I've heard of it. Hear it's dangerous."

"It was. It was a long time ago. Not sure how it is now."

"What made you come down here?"

"Change. Didn't mean to stay for this long, didn't know this place existed. Just found it one day, and decided to make it my own."

And that she did. She made it her own in the sense where for five years, she's been the talk of the town. Not so much now as before but, for a while, it was something aside Jumpers to talk about. Wonder if all girls from the Capital Wasteland have that same effect. She also says she's from a vault. Thinking back to that strange metal contraption I saw on her counter, it all makes sense. That, must have been her Pip-Boy.

"Why'd you need change? Place get old or too many people after you?"

"Neither. Gimmie another smoke."

I oblige, knowing if I do she'll tell me more.

"Well, what was it then?"

"Cassidy, I have no one after me. All my enemies are dead, and all my would-be enemies are dead too. If I had loose ends, I wouldn't have left when I did."

"But you didn't leave for change then, either."

"You seem like a reasonable man. So I think you'd understand, when life says it's time to go, you go. When you're at a turning point, you can stay and dwell, or you can pack up and move on. I chose to move on."

"Move on from what?"

"Things that won't fit into this short conversation. I'm on a time-frame, so I won't be able to answer everything."

Her tone is that of importance. Like she's the goddamned queen and I'm a surf wasting her time. I suppose though, she's right. I'd give anything to talk to her, and she knows it. I sort of get the feel she's toying with me. Although, I ain't got a clue as to how or why. Nothing I have, she wants, and nothing she wants I have. But I must say, it is pretty amazing she's talking to me at all. I sigh as I watch her smoke the cigarette, toying with the smoke on her lips the same as she did just moments ago.

"When you leaving?"

"Tonight. Sometime, tonight."

"Expecting company then?"

"What? No. No there's no one wanting to see me. If there was, they would have. I just want to be out of here by midnight."

Lighting my own cigarette, I watch her and she watches me.

"I find it hard to believe a girl like you comes here with no friends."

"I never said I didn't have friends, Cassidy. I just said there's no need of them to visit me."

"And why's that? Isn't that what friends and people alike do?"

Then, she gives me a small smile. As she inhales smoke and looks at me, her long arms dangling over the sides of her knees pressed into her chest, she smiles. Maybe not a big one, or even a happy one, but it's a smile. After five years, I finally get to talk to her. I find myself smiling a bit, too.

"My friends have nothing more to say to me, and I have nothing more to say to them."

"Sounds like you live your life pretty definite. What if they do?"

"They don't, or believe me I wouldn't still be here. And yes, I do live like that.

Black and white are black and white. There's no more gray areas in my life."

"Are you indicating at one time there were?"

She gives a nod and a slight shrug. Its like I can't get her full attention when, right now I'd really appreciate it. You know I'm trying to piece together this five-year puzzle. Tryin' to find some reason and justification for her being here. When she's gone back up to her house, and when she's high-tailing it out of here, I know I'm gonna have a million and one things to ask. It's how this kind of stuff always goes down.

"Call me crazy but I can't think of anything to ask you. I mean, I got a million things runnin' in my mind, but they've seemed to run away temporarily."

"It's always like that."

For me this is an awkward silence. One that sits uncomfortably in the pit of my stomach. I'm not sure what it is for her, but I can tell she's not feeling any repercussions. She's starin' up at the sky with this whimsical look like she ain't got a care in the world.

"Hey, about them scars you said you got at Point Lookout…"

"What about 'em?"

She stares at me, and I stare at the scars.

"How…exactly did that happen?"

"I was on a…well I'm not sure. Just excursion, I guess. I never been there before so I took the land for granted. Didn't know how strong the natives were. A Reaver got me, after I shot him twice with a sawed-off. Swiped me clear across the face. Almost didn't make it out alive."

"But you did."

"Yeah, lucky me."

"Well, what about that one there on your stomach?"

I point to one, it seems to be an older one, that goes right across her belly button.

"Talon mercenary. A gang of no-good assholes that use to run high and mighty up in the Capital Wasteland. They're not there anymore."

"Seems like you've seen your fair share of fights."

"No one has scars like this for fun, Cassidy."

Even though we're talking, the only solid thing I know about this girl is her name and where she's from. I can tell she's getting restless, too. Not many people want to sit on a rock like this and stare at stars. Her especially.  
"Dez…"

"Cassidy."

Her name sounds funny. All these years she's just been 'the girl', no more no less. Now she has a name. It's strange but…but now I don't think I want her to leave. Never did really want her to go, she always mystified me. But, she says she's spent enough time here, and people like her never stay in one place too long.

"Do you really have to leave? I mean, you only just started being social. Why not take a few days, get to know the people?"

Dez narrows her eyes and looks at me. It sends another shudder down my spine.

"This isn't 'social'. I know enough people. No need to know anymore."

"Don't you think you're being negative?"

She shakes her head and stares at something. It's not something not-there, either. Turning my head, I see very well what she's staring at. A truck is pulling up into down, down at the base of the hill. This town is set atop a wide hill, and from any point up here you can see below. Not much of the town is at the base, just really a bunch of old and broken roads from the pre-war era. Nothin' unusual about a truck passing by, could be any number of things. Though most folk get by on their own two feet, I wouldn't be surprised if they started utilizing the old pre-war ways.

Dez slides off the rock, staring down at the truck as it slowly climbs up the hill. Her face is frozen in something I can't quite explain, but it worries me.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

I ask her, but she ignores me. Damn girl is off in her own world, staring at the truck as it stops in front of the bar. Neither one of us can see who gets out, and apparently this doesn't sit well with Dez. With a worried look on her face, she stumbles down the path. I suppose 'stumble' isn't the right word. She's kinda walkin' like a drunkard, really. Trippin' over her own feet in mere…disbelief? I don't know what the hell she's feeling or doing.

"Dez, hey, hey…"

I catch up to her as she reaches the part of the cracked road people walk down to get to the bar. She stares down at the truck, but there's no one in it now. Musta gone into the bar for somethin'.

"I know that truck…I know it…"

Needless to say I'm quite confused.

"You know it?"

She nods, and I see her throat swallow something hard. She lifts the smoke to her lips, but doesn't inhale. Instead she lets it fall and drop to the dirt below.

"Well if you know 'em, go say hello."

I take it that doin' that ain't too easy. Dez don't look at me. She just stares down at the bar, waiting for the people who own the truck come out. Eventually, they do. It's a ghoul and a young kid. Kid looks about fifteen-sixteen, I can't right tell from here. Glancing over at Dez, I see the shock that's settled on her face.

"…Gob…"

"What?"

She whispers it, and I almost don't catch it. Before I can ask anything else, the damn girl takes off like a bat outta hell.

"Hey! Wait!"

She runs full speed down the hill, and I'm running after her like a loon.

"Gob! Gob!"

She cries and it's only as we run, only before we hit the bottom, that I see the tears flying off of her cheek. Who is this 'Gob' fellow? What connection does she have to him? At the base of the hill, the two people stop and stare with the same shock and disbelief as Dez has. The sun is low in the sky, sinking over the horizon. I can't keep up with the girl, and instead I stop and watch the scene unfold. She keeps running, running until she reaches the two people. Then, to my amazement, she flings herself into the arms of the ghoul standing before her. The kid watches on.

I can't say I'm not confused, I am. I'm utterly confused and shock but at the same time…shit. It's like the ending to one of the most romantic movies I've seen. Not that I've ever seen any in my day, just a metaphor really. The ghoul holds Dez up, and she cries and sobs in his chest. Like she hasn't seen this person in years, but at one time they were pretty close. I'm guessing that's it. The ghoul buries his face in the nape of her neck, his hands vanish in her hair, and I find myself more than a bit envious. Who the hell is he, coming into my town and doing this?

Dez doesn't notice me getting closer. Hell none of the three do. Before I know it I'm standing next to the kid, as he smiles stupid and wide.

"I take it you know them, Dez?"

My voice goes unnoticed between the sobbing cries of Dez, and the mysterious ghoul whispering to her and kissing parts of her face. Seeing this enrages me, and I grab Dez away from him. He's a ghoul, with no rights to touch a human.

"You keep your hands off!"

Without explanation, I receive a swift punch to my right cheek. I look down at Dez in shock, as her wet face twists and contorts in anger.

"Don't _touch_ me!"

She screams before falling back into the arms of the ghoul. I notice the kid has his gun drawn on me, and the ghoul holds Dez like she's some precious child. No one in this town has dared lay a hand on me before. No one had ever defied me. I'm not quite sure, what it is I'm more shocked over at this point.


	8. Familiar Faces

(Dez)

I cling to Gob, even after we get up to my house. I can't believe it. I can't believe, that after all this time, he's come to find me. Him, and Zack. Zack, he's gotten so big. He looks so much like Nova, like I'm sure Gob use to. I can't believe any of this is happening. I don't know, how to feel right now. I feel happy to see him, elated even, but…but at the same time I don't feel much of anything anymore.

Gob, Zack and I walk into my bedroom. We all pile on my bed like one big happy parade of people. Zack's smiling like he's just woke to three Fat Man guns and a handful of Mini Nukes. Well, that's something that'd make me happy. But, it's been five years. Five years since I've seen them, five years for them to grow and change. They're not the same people I left behind. Looking at Gob, I can see that instantly.

When I left, the last time I saw him before I left, really, Gob was different. He was a parent, a bumbling buffoon, someone worth having a drink and few laughs with. He was the go-to guy for all things wrong with my life, and all things needing advice. That was it, really. He wasn't anything…anything like this. I look in his eyes now, and I see someone I don't recognize. My friend is still there, buried deep beneath the sands of time and change. But, this newer person is more prominent. Gob's stronger now, than he ever was before. I still could beat him in a fight, but this time he'd fight back. He's changed…newer. I guess, raising a kid alone in this world, will make that fighter come out even in the most docile of people.

Gob runs his fingers through my hair, it's grown since I saw him last. I don't think he believes it's really me. Really the Dezbe he first met, coming from the vault almost…fifteen years ago. Fifteen years…wow. It…sounds like such a long time, when you say it like that. But I'm not that girl I once was. I'm older now, wiser, stronger in some ways, weaker in others. I guess that's how people grow and change though. Still, like I see the old Gob in his eyes, he still sees the old Dezbe in mine.

"I can't believe this."

He says, cleaning my face with the back of my hand. As older as I may be now, the comfort of being taken care of is something I've always missed. Having someone like Gob in my life, is a privilege not a right.

"Me neither."

I say back, my voice still course from when I was attacked by the Deathclaw so many years ago. Eight years since then.

"Dez!"

Zack jumps at me, wrapping his arms around my body. He's gotten so big. So…so grown up. Last time I saw him he was hardly hitting puberty and now…he's almost as big as his father. Height-wise he's the same, but…I know this kid is going to be a strong fighter. Wrapping my arms around him in return, we hug one another. Since I saw Gob, he's been hogging my attention. That's okay, though. Zack knows he didn't go unnoticed.

"You've…gotten so big…"

"We've missed you so much."

Zack says, pressing his face into my chest. I hold him, and run my fingers through his short, thick hair.

"I missed you, too."

Kissing the top of his head, Zack looks at me. He smiles, and I can see he still sees me the same exact way he did growing up. That consistency, makes it all worthwhile.

"How'd you find me?"

I ask as Zack pulls away and leans against the wall while sitting on my bed. Gob smiles, playing with his pants. Almost like he's damn proud of finding me.

"Might as well ask Zack about that one."

So I look over to him, curious.

"I hired traders to look for you on their ventures…"

"Didn't know I was such a hot commodity."

They exchange looks, and I can tell there's more to this story than what they're letting on. It makes me a bit sad, to think that they didn't find me because they wanted to, but because something happened. I'm not that person anymore, and at some point tonight, I have to tell them that.

"It's been…five years, Dez. Five years, is a long time. We've missed you, and thought about you. Night after night, we'd talk about you and I'd tell this impossible being about your adventures. It's…only natural we'd miss you, and try and find you."

"Why? People don't just come out of their way, all the way out here, for someone they 'missed'."

I snap a Gob, not meaning to be so mean. But shit here I am ready to travel to the stars high above and hopefully see Charon when these two bumbling idiots show up from nowhere unannounced. They barged back into my life, not the other way around. In some fucked up way, I think I'm a bit angry at them for it. I spent these last five years trying to detach myself from the Capital Wasteland and all of her inhabitants. Why now, do they come back to me? Can I never really escape the life I once led?

"Dez, nothing happened. Nothing, at all. In fact the Capital Wasteland is as peaceful as ever, aside from the Raiders as always. We came here because we missed you, because this kid thought it would be best."

Making Gob explain himself like that doesn't make me feel like a good friend. But someone, anyone, has to understand my stance. Getting up off of my bed, I turn my back to him, hiding the pain of my life in the Capital Wasteland beneath a veil of viciousness.

"You shouldn't have come here, Gob."

"Dez?"

"I spent five years, detaching myself from there. Five years, away and in solitude. I didn't want…why did you…couldn't you both have left well enough alone?"

They stare at me like I have six heads. Stupid, both of them.

"Couldn't you have lived with the memory of me? Of what I once was, rather than what I've become? Why is it so hard for everyone to accept my absence and move on? Just because I'm not blowing up some base doesn't mean I'm not happy! Why do I always get dragged back to there? Why…"

"What you've become? Dez, wait, where's you're Pip-Boy?"

I turn around and shoot lightning bolts from my eyes at Gob and Zack.

"_That's not the point_! Why did you come here? What? Is there some fucking awesome event waiting for me back in the Capital Wasteland? Does some lost little kid need someone to hold their hand while they look for their parents? _What_?"

"Dez, it's nothing like that. What's gotten into you? Why the hell you freaking out?"

I observe quickly, that Gob is every bit concerned, whereas Zack has this look on his face. This look of uncaring seriousness. I want to know what he's thinking. I ignore Gob, and glare at him.  
"Zack! Look at me!"

He does, and he sighs.

"You went through the efforts to find me! Well, are you happy? Happy with what you've found?"

By no means, do I live in horrible conditions. My home is well, my body is healthy still, and I keep to myself. But, after five years, anyone would be this upset if their friends barged back in. Maybe not this angry, but this confused. I mean, how can I face them? I left, without so much as a goodbye wave and yet, here they are. Because of me, that happy life we so lived for three years, is gone. I'm not deserving of their efforts, not deserving of anything kind they do for me. This anger, is just my way of pushing them away from me. I want them to hate me, because I don't deserve them to care about me. I want to die here, I came here to die. I'm ready now.

"No, actually I'm not."

Zack's answer silences me, and causes Gob to smack him upside the head. Curious, I stare at him.

"I'm a bit ashamed, really. I mean, we go out of our way, come all the way down here, and you treat us like this. Not really the welcoming party I had in mind. Don't get me wrong Aunt Dez I didn't expect you to welcome us with flowers and chocolates, either. Okay, I can see why you're upset, and you left I guess for your own good reason. But, isn't it time you went back and faced it all? Not that there's skeletons in your closet but coming to this shit-town and living in your room till you die, isn't how the Dezbe I have in my head would have liked to live."

"That Dezbe died five years ago. Did your father ever clear up that mess? Did he tell you why I left? I'm sure he knows, his sense of knowing is quite powerful."

"Something about Uncle Charon but I'm not clear."

I ball my hands into fists and then out again. I want to tell him, but the words won't form. They won't come out of my mouth, and in a pitiful attempt I look at Gob.

"You're still the same Dez to us. We're not asking you to come back with us, we just wanted to know if you were still alive."

Gob's voice penetrates the anger that builds the walls. I like hearing it, I always have. I stare at him, five years of loneliness and desperation seeping out into one, tactful glance. Tears swell up again, and they stream down my face. I have friends here, who love me regardless of the things I've done. Why, is it so hard for me to accept it?

"It's because of me this shit happened. I can't…I can't…deal with that."

I say, quiet now as I sit on my floor. I crumble in front of them. Earlier my tears were tears of joy. Now, they're tears of anguish and pain. Five years, I've kept it all inside of me. Knowing in the back of my mind, that if I had found another way, an alternative solution, the three years of happiness everyone had could have been stretched to five or ten or even fifteen more. But, my foolish action, my want to survive more than anything, fucked that all up. I never let anyone here know, just how much I was hurting. I never let myself know, how much it killed me inside.

As I cry in my heap of pathetic mess, I hear one of them move. I don't see which one, but soon strong, young arms wrap around my body. Zack. He seems to be, the only sensible one out of the three of us. In some way, I get a haunting feeling I'm making him grow up faster than he should. I'd never wish my life, upon anyone else. I don't want him to think he has to be an adult. He's a kid, and I want him to remember that.

"You didn't do anything wrong, auntie. You didn't, do us wrong. We love you. We miss you."

His words are sincere and it makes me feel even worse. I shake my head, not feeling worthy of his comfort. Not feeling worthy, really, of anyone's touch or kindness. Pulling away, I look at the both of them. Their likeness, putting Gob's ghoulness aside, is uncanny.

"If I didn't…if didn't do what I did, no one would be here. We'd still be in the Capital Wasteland, happy as Mirelurks in mud."

"You can't blame yourself for something that was five years ago. Would you still blame yourself, for your father leaving the vault?"

Gob asks a question that needs no answer. I give it one, anyways, because it's what I do best. Sarcasm, has never really left my system. It's simply been sleeping.

"My father leaving the vault was his own choice. What I did, was by my own hand, and my own choice. Gob, do you even know what I'm talking about?"

"Yes. I went to the house and saw the aftermath. I knew, that was when you left."

"Exactly then, how do you think all of that made me feel? I…Gob, what if that was you and Nova?"

Now, he sees it. The pain crosses his face, and he looks down at his hands. He understands now, why I did what I did. Why that when I first saw them I was happy, but then became angry and volatile. But then, Gob looks up at me, with this strange look on his face. What it is, I can't tell you.

"I would feel horrible, if I was in your situation. But, I would do all I could, to live my life to the fullest and not waste the life she had helped me live."

It's creepy, how Gob can mirror my questions and thoughts of just a few nights ago. Creepy, how he knows that that's the only reason I'm still alive. It's because I couldn't find it in myself, to simply toss away my life. The same life, Charon nearly gave his for. The same life, that he helped shape and mold. But the imprints people make on our lives, are scars that run far deeper than anyone else can see. Gob understands, and Gob I know is one of the few who can, but he'll never see it quite the same way I do.

"…I don't know what to do."

I admit, scared like I was when I first left the vault. Being alone for this long, gives me time to think. I've thought a lot about everything and all I could but…I've still found no working solution.

"Do what makes you happy."

"Gob, I don't even know what that is anymore."

Zack stands up and walks in front of me. He towers over me from my seat on the floor.

"You are Dezbe! You are the savior and screw-upper of the Capital Wasteland and fuck if we haven't missed you. You've done things that even the people in the pre-war color books can't do, you've done it all, trust me I know. I make dad tell me all the time. How can you give up like this? How can you sit here, and let yourself become this? You're…you're worth more to this world than you think. You're worth more to Charon, than anyone can imagine."

"Charon's dead, Zack."

He frowns. His words, touch me but I'm stuck in this hole. This hole that I've dug, for five years. This hole that is going to take more than a visit from my past to dig me out of. I know some people would go back. They'd go back to where it all went wrong and somehow try to fix it. But, that's not how I do things. That's not how I want to fix this, if there is any fixing. Nothing, can turn back time and bring Charon back. Nothing, can right the wrong that I did and make it so it never happened. I can't face them now, knowing it was all my fault.

"So? Just because he's gone, doesn't mean you should give up like this. Dad didn't give up. Why are you?"

"Your father had you, Zack. I don't have anything."

"…You have us."

Blinking, I stare at them. Stare at the two men who came all this way. Who tracked me down for no other reason than they missed me. I suppose people would call them true. As hurt and angry as I am for them coming here, I can understand why. I was ready to die tonight, though. Ready to leave it all behind once and for all. To get some relaxation from the memories. Now, it seems my plans are all screwed up. Zack's right, I have them but…is that enough? Will it be enough, and make me strong? Or rather, will it finally be the thing to break me.

"I think it's time to stop running, Dez. Zack's right, you have us. Your home, misses you."

"…I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Gob and Zack help me up, and I hug them both. They don't judge me, as I cry on their shoulders. They hold me up, support me, in all the ways friends should.

"I must really mean a lot, for you two to come all the way out here…"

"Yeah well, you're basically family. Small, broken, dysfunctional as all hell, but family."

Gob says, patting my head with his hand. It's a lot for me to absorb right now. I was supposed to die tonight. Supposed to go down to the shoreline, and end it all, really. Earlier I had high hopes of seeing Charon. High hopes, of closing my eyes and walking into his warm embrace. It's been so long, so very, very long and the memories I have can only offer so much comfort. Five years, goes by slow when you're alone. But at the end of it, it all seems like it's gone in an instant. I never realized, never let myself know, how truly alone I was. How hurt I'd become, and how I let that hurt change and shape me.

I don't deserve friends like these. I left without saying goodbye, and yet my memory and what I meant to them so long ago, was enough for them to find me. How can I repay them? I selfishly ran away. But, but I'm still not sure, if it was selfish. Knowing I destroyed the happiness we all sought to have, the freedom we all wanted so badly, I couldn't stand to face them. It was me, who ruined it. Me alone, and I didn't feel I deserved the blessings of a goodbye. I figured, they'd hate me. Once they pieced together the actions and events, that they'd somehow scorn me and banish me from their lives. If they came here, to yell and berate me, I'd accept it better. It'd be easier for me to accept, than their open arms of warmth.

Picking my head up, I stare at them. I stare at Gob, at Zack, and it feels like forever. Forever, since I last looked at them. Forever, since I felt their tender touches. I run my fingers over Zack's smooth baby face, and hold Gob's hand in mine. No one, tells you that you can fall into something. Something, as dark as your own self. How those haunting memories of the past, can ensnare and entrap you so much, so deeply, that you forsake all those things that make you who you are. Maybe, if I had gone to them, rather than run away, things would be different. But was I scared of admitting my crime, or scared of what they'd think of me?

"Dez?"

Zack's voice causes me to blink. I look over at him, and he gives me a sad smile.

"Can I talk to you?"

Nodding, I look back at Gob and smile just a bit.

"Hey, you must be tired. Lie down. I'm going to walk and talk with Zack. We'll be back soon. I'll keep an eye on him."

Gob smiles, nodding back at me.

"I know you will. I might be sleeping when you get back, though."

"We have all day tomorrow to catch up."

"That we do."

With that, I let go of Gob's hand and lead Zack from my room. He follows me, out my front door. When he closes it behind him, I can tell this is a conversation that I won't forget. A conversation, I know that's going to stir up all those lucid and horrible emotions I've tried to hard to suppress. But, maybe it's time, to let them out. Maybe, there's time to redeem myself, and earn back the feeling of worthiness I've lost over the years.


	9. Tell Me the Truth

We walk in silence along the shoreline. The only noise, is the crashing tide against the sand. It's one of the many reasons, I've always liked coming down here. It's a warm, clear night. No rain, no clouds to block the stars. So many of them are present right now, in this lit-up shoreline town. The moon, is fully thick crescent. Like, it's smiling down at me. I haven't felt such ease, in five years or more.

"What do you want to talk to me about?"

I ask, lighting a cigarette from a pack I snatched off of Cassidy when he wasn't looking.

"…I want to know what really happened. You know, between you and Uncle Charon."

I smirk at that. At how Zack still calls us 'aunt' and 'uncle'. It doesn't fit us, but I suppose it's out of habit. Gob had no other way, to explain his relationship with us to Zack. It's cute, in a sad, twisted little way.

"I suppose the pieces of that incident are still a mystery to you and your dad, then?"

"Well, not really I mean…he has some idea. But, I want to know if they match up. I'm old enough to know the truth about things."

"And as far as I know, your father has never hidden the truth from you."

"I think he hides things from me. He gets letters from someone. He doesn't know that I know but…I do. I want to know, if he's hiding things for my safety, or just because he's selfish."

I sigh, exhaling smoke. The sea breeze sweeps it away and I stop walking. I watch the smoke, dissipate into the air. Sometimes, I wonder about what will happen to this world, when humans are long-gone from it.

"Sometimes people keep things to themselves, to remind themselves they're still a single being. I did that a lot, with Charon. We were a pair, sometimes, I didn't like it. Keeping small secrets, helped remind me I was my own person. Maybe, your dad does the same."

"But…I'm his son."

"My father kept things from me. It's only natural. Give him space. But, what did he tell you happened? Between me and Charon, I mean."

"He said that, well he said he assumes…that Charon went into a fit. That he put your life in danger, and can only assume you ran away from it."

I smirk and flick some ash from my cigarette. These things will kill me one day, but they haven't yet. Yay, for radiation healing, I suppose.

"I haven't talked about that day to anyone, you know. Remembering it…I don't do it much. It hurts. But, you do have a right to know. Your dad's assumptions were right. That's exactly what happened, only…only it ended worse."

"He died."

"Yeah."

I stare, misty-eyed at the black water. It's so dark, you can't see it. You can hardly see the hand in front of your face but that's why I love it here. Here, by the sea. No lights, no people, just you and the silence and the blackness.

"Who was that guy you were with?"

There's jealousy in Zack's voice. But not the kind where he wants to sleep with me and he doesn't want competition, no. Jealousy, because I think he doesn't want me loving another man. Being, with another man, who isn't Charon. Childish emotions, like when your father gets a girlfriend after a divorce. You don't want him to love her, only love your mother, and you hurt over it.

"Cassidy. He's been a visitor to me, three times a week, for five years. I don't speak to him much, but he's persistent. I guess he finds me intriguing, or some inane shit."

"So he's not your boyfriend?"

I turn and stare into Zack's eyes. They're Gob's eyes, and it makes me feel a bit more comfortable. Last time I saw him, he was so young. Now, he's grown, nearly an adult. There's still things about this world, though, that I can tell Gob shelters him from. I'm not sure, if I'll do the same. I don't want him growing up fast, but I don't want him growing up ignorant, either.

"I haven't been with a man, or loved a man, since the day I left the Capital Wasteland. I don't think, I'll ever love again. And somehow, I'm okay with that."

"He meant a lot to you, didn't he?"

"More than the galaxy and all the stars in it. No man, can ever measure up, to the man Charon was."

We sit down, the cool sand a nice refresher to the warm, summer air. Of course, seasons aren't something of the norm out here. Sure, there's rain and sometimes it snows. But, never as bad as the first time it happened. The snow…well I'm glad that's a rarity. Because really, it holds memories. Just like everything else in the Capital Wasteland.

"Dad said not to ask you about him. Said it makes you sad."

"It does. It's hard to remember him sometimes, most of the time. But I think you're old enough, and I think I should talk about him. If I can't keep his memory alive at least, then I'd feel it'd be a waste."

"I know about your adventures together, but…that's it. How'd you know you loved Charon? How did it happen? My dad said…he was a cold, emotionless mercenary before he met you. I wonder really, about love and it's powerful powers. I guess I'm hoping you'll prove them right."

"It's not a love story, Zack. It's anything but, but if I tell you, you have to listen. To find the love, you have to look between the lines. I won't shelter you, you're old enough to know this now. You're damn curious, too."

"I want to know, so maybe then when I find someone I care about, I can know if it's real or not."

Fair enough. Smoking the last bit of my cigarette, I put it out in the sand. Kicking off my boots, I stretch my legs out and let the tide gently wet the tips of my toes. Small things, matter.

"Charon wasn't born out of love. Maybe, he was to his parents but…he was put up for adoption. The people who adopted him out, were government people. They collected orphans, and trained them. Trained them in cruel and vicious ways, to create heartless, cold, emotionless killing machines. Charon, was the top of his class. The meanest, the coldest, the most obeying of them all."

"Does it still exist? The school?"

"It wasn't a school, and no it doesn't. It was a facility, and from what I know, not pleasant. Charon…had scars even after his twice-over ghoulification from that place. It's not something I'd be interested in visiting or learning about."

"So…so if he was so mean, how did you meet?"

"He worked as a bouncer in Underworld. Now, you have to understand Charon was a pre-war ghoul. He was in Anchorage, and in Vault 101 when the bombs fell. In fact, he helped found Underworld."

"Dad never told me that…"

"Your dad didn't know. But, there's a catch. The facility he was brought up in brainwashed him to obey a contract. Whomever held that contract, Charon had to obey without complaint. No questions asked, really."

"And you came to have that contract? How?"

Pulling my knees to my chest, I rest my chin on them, and stare out into the starry sky.

"His employer, told him to kill me. He had his gun to my head, finger on the trigger but…he never squeezed. For the first time, Charon disobeyed an order."

"That wasn't allowed, I take it. So wait, why? He didn't know you, did he?"

"Nope. And I'm still not clear. Charon said it was the words of a previous employer but…I don't know. He didn't kill me, and that same night I bought his contract. He ended up saving my life twice that night but…that's another story."

"So how'd he go from emotionless to emotional? And how'd you know when you loved him?"

"Zack…I never had anybody. What I thought was love, was really desperation and dependency. My father was often too busy to care, and my mother died when I was born. I knew I loved Charon, when I realized I could rely on him. When I saw that his loyalty, wasn't just based on work. That I became something to him, and that scared him, yet he still stuck by. Because of the freedoms I granted him under his contract, he was susceptible to a slew of new feelings. It took a long time, but eventually, he came to love me as I loved him. Maybe, even more…"

Zack's eyes, I can feel them on me. So I look over at him. He has this curious and sad look on his face. I'm not sure, what to make of it, really. I'm trying to keep this open and short, so I don't bore him. And really, so I don't get upset myself.

"His…his companionship, made you love him?"

"I was alone for most of my life, Zack. And then out of the blue I had someone. Someone to protect me, help me survive, talk with me and walk around with me. Small things, make a world of difference. He saved my life so many times, and offered me comfort. Believe me when I tell you, though, it was quite vicious and mean between us for a long time. Up until…well, I came back from The Pitt, really."

"Why was it vicious?"

"Because that's how we were. I didn't want to let him know my feelings, didn't want to seem weak and vulnerable. He himself didn't know what it was he was feeling, only the strong drive to be near me and protect me. So we argued as people do, fought, and kept it light. But, at night…things were calmer. At night, he'd hold me really close, and I'd claim I was cold. Under that guise, we were able to slowly let our guards down. We still fought, and those fights make me laugh sometimes."

"It sounds like a love story to me."

I smile at Zack. The kind of smile, a mother gives a child when they say something sweet. Or make something out of finger-paints, or says something wise beyond their years. It's that kind of smile, and Zack's the only person I can give it to.

"In a twisted and fucked up way, I guess it is. If it was a story, it'd take a lot of installments and a near 'M' rating to tell it all, though. You know, for violence and sexual situations."

Zack laughs at that, and I feel happy inside that I could make him laugh. It seems like he hasn't laughed a lot for a long time.

"He always stuck by you, though. It's a lot to admire, from someone like me anyways."

"There was a time when he didn't. I did some things, that didn't deserve his forgiveness."

"Like what?"

"Like…well we were kidnapped. The Talons, you probably know this story…they got a hold of his contract."

"Yeah, yeah I heard this on Three Dog when he used to play the recording of your narrative. You stabbed him in the back, literally, right?"

I nod, biting my lip.

"And I left him there for a month. I went back. He didn't accept me into his life right away. Almost, like starting over. For a while we went on a trip to find a new and suitable employer for him. He didn't want anything to do with me, and for just cause."

"But he did in the end. He loved you."

Water…it comes into my eyes but I push it back. I don't want to cry anymore. I've cried enough.

"I know he did. I think…it was that, that tore us apart."

"What? How? Doesn't love bring people together?"

"Sometimes. Sometimes, it rips you up inside. You go about your life, thinking you have it all figured out. Thinking you're some emotionless bitch who doesn't need anyone. Then someone comes into your life. Most of the time, uninvited. They come in, and they tear you up inside. Your life, isn't yours anymore. It's now dedicated to someone else, and you think about them more than you think about yourself. All of a sudden, you're not important in your own world. They're what comes first. Then you're not who you thought you were, and you have no idea who the person in your own head is. Who the person you thought you knew as yourself, is. It's beautiful and intoxicating and all things wonderful but it hurts. It hurts, because you know if that person leaves, it's going to near kill you. And then…when they do, you're nothing but an empty shell of what you once were. You're left hurting, alone, and wondering who you are now. If you're better, or worse, because of that person. It's disgusting, love, but…I'd do it all again, if I could."

"You think…you think he loved you enough to change?"

"Charon changed because it was meant to happen. Because it was inevitable. If I didn't ignite it, than time would have. But his love for me, made him stay with me. He could have gone off, and dealt with his past. We'd talk about it from time to time, but nothing came from it. He said he didn't want to leave me alone. Didn't want to worry about me. That worry, was his downfall. Had he gone in search of his past, to fight the demons that came with emotions and his memories, then his blackouts wouldn't have happened. Nothing, would have happened. But he loved me, and his desire to stay…well, it tore us apart."

"I don't understand…"

"Well, think of it this way. If Charon had faced his past like I told him to, then…I wouldn't have had…to do what I did. But I did what I did to him, in part because I loved him. I would have given my life, for him at any given moment. But when you're staring at the person you love in the eyes, and you see their pain…sometimes you do the most unthinkable things, to free them from that pain."

Zack looks away, down at his feet. I lie back in the sand, letting it creep between my clothes and rub against my skin.

"Oh. I think, I'm understanding now. So, if he had been able to leave, and deal with things, he'd be alive. And if you cared more about yourself, you wouldn't have killed him?"

Hearing it put like that, really stings.

"Yeah. Because I would have died and left him alone to deal with his pain and torment. But, I knew I couldn't let him live with the guilt of his past, and the guilt of doing me away. I'd rather live in misery, alone for the rest of my life, than let him think for one instance he hurt me, or even killed me. I'd rather, take that pain and guilt for myself. Because I loved him enough."

I bury my face in my knees, and weep quietly. Of course, to be honest, I always imagined this. Imagined if I saw Zack again, and imagined he'd ask these very same questions. It's only normal, a kid would be curious about what happened when he was young. About things that he was once too small and innocent to understand. It's just…I never truly expected it. Never really thought, for an instance that we'd meet again. Because of this pain I feel now, I hoped I'd never see him. Hoped he'd live a happy and full life, without me. Because I've hurt enough. I've hurt myself, and people, too many times to count. Shouldn't it be best, to now leave well enough alone?

Zack slides his arms around me. I feel them, as he pulls me into his torso. At night, when he was young and scared of the dark, I'd comfort him. I'd stay up, telling him stories I made from thin air, to calm his fears and nerves. It seems now, the tables have turned. No child, should ever comfort an adult. That's the system I was brought up believing in the vault, and often I forget…I'm not there anymore. No, no one stays in vaults anymore. Not that I know of, anyways. I'd rather live out here, anyways. Rather be out here, and be free, than confined to a vault. I guess I wouldn't know any better, though. I didn't before I came out here myself. I thought the world was the vault, and that was that. Sometimes, I suppose ignorance, truly is bliss.

"You know what I regret?"

I say, letting Zack comfort me. There's times, when I think I need to just let others help me.

"What?"

"All the fights, and all the things, I put Charon through. I could cut him to pieces when I was hurting. I never meant it, but I was hurting."

"I think he knows you didn't mean it."

"Yeah…"

I wonder, how Gob was able to endure Nova's death. I wasn't there with him, so I never saw it. Wasn't able, to stand by his side and support him as he supports me. I guess, he endured it because he had Zack. Because Zack's mere presence at an age no one ever remembers, gave Gob the strength to move on. Gave him the strength, to continue. Gob, in the sense of moving on, is a lot stronger than I am. Since that night in Megaton, after my father's life, I've been completely and utterly devoted and stuck on Charon. Even when I traveled to New Vegas, and lived the high-life of gambling and Gomorrah, I was still with Charon. I was still, mentally and emotionally bound to him. No matter, how hard I tried to forget. No matter how many chems I took, no matter how many nights I spent with other men, it was always Charon I thought of. I wanted to forget him, to make sure I could still be independent. I know now, how foolish that is.

That night, I begged him to stay. Ordered him to, even. And he did. Unyielding, Charon stayed by my side. Even when we weren't together, even when our lives took us down separate paths, he was still with me. In the back of my mind, offering words of love and courage to wake the next morning. I think, maybe that show I needy weakness, of needing someone other than myself, made it so I'd never in my life be able to move on from him. No matter…no matter how hard I tried.

"I didn't mean to make you cry, Dez. I shouldn't have asked."

Pulling away from Zack, I wipe my face clean with the back of my hand. Offering a hopeful smile, I shake my head at him. As hard as life is, as difficult as it has been, I've still survived it. There's no doubt in my mind now, that I could survive whatever is thrown at me. Whatever, this life has to offer me now, is nothing compared to what I've already seen.

"It was time to talk about it."

Standing up, I light another cigarette. Zack stands beside me, his features reminding me painfully of Nova. I look in his eyes, and I want so bad, to protect him. Protect him from the life I've lived. Protect him, from all the evils of this world. I guess now, there's time for me to do that. At least, I hope.


	10. Reach for the Love That's All Around

Back at home, I help Zack figure out where he's going to sleep. There's no extra bed or blankets, since I've been on my own. He opts to just sleep on the floor in my room, saying it's not the worst thing in the world. I can tell though, when he lies down, he's the kind of kid use to having a bed to lay in and a pillow beneath his head. Nothing wrong with that, as long as he knows sometimes, that's not always going to happen.

Closing the bedroom door, I light another cigarette and make my way into the other room. The room, with the single chair by the window, and the perfect view of the shore. Zack, is a lot like Amata in some ways. He's sort of naïve, doesn't really know the world too well, and I think expects some things to be done for him. I'm not sure, what happened to Amata after Charon and I left Megaton. We left her there, and never spoke of her again. Not out of spite, really, but because she no longer played a role in our lives. Because there were far more important, and far better things to talk about. She might still be there, I'll have to ask Gob when he wakes up.

Sitting in my chair, I smoke my cigarette in silence. The night is early, and I'm not sleepy. Gob and Zack, they drove this long way here for me. I can only imagine they must be tired. Looking down at my arm, I see the blank space where my Pip-Boy used to be. Since I took it off, when I first got here…I feel like I've been dreaming. Like this life, wasn't meant for me. In a perpetual daze, really. The life, I once led…that's the life for me. Filled with adventure, with romance, heartache, violence and witty humor. But going back, isn't an option. This is my life now. It's nothing, nothing what it was before. These feelings, dreams, all of this isn't what I was.

Standing up, I feel something I haven't felt, in five years. I feel alive. All the mistakes this life can take…I've made them. I've done all the wrongs, done all the rights, and now I think I can face the day once again. Walking to the kitchen, I lift the old Pip-Boy from the old counter. It's dusty, since I haven't touched it in so long. I've been sleeping for so long, and now…I think it's time…for me to wake up. Now, there's no one left to fight. There's no one left to love, but there's so much more to appreciate. When you've hit rock bottom, like I have, all you can do is wait. Wait, because soon, everything will change. Since there's no deeper down you can go, the only direction left, is up.

As scared as I am of waking, I know I have to do it. The life I ran from, it's time to face. Sliding my arm through the perfect circle of the Pip-Boy, I wait patiently. It whirs to life, lighting up the familiar dark and light green. I stand steady, still, as it closes around my wrist and forearm. It feels like an old friend, like Gob only…older. As my Pip-Boy recognizes my DNA, and slowly adjusts itself to fit me perfectly, and as my arm adjusts to having the weight back on it, I collect my thought. It's been so long, since I could hold my head up on my own, without the weight of it all dragging me down. When my Pip-Boy finishes, and when it's fully loaded, the first place I go to is my 'notes' section. Before my eyes, a picture of Charon appears. Gently, I run my fingers over it. I'll make him proud. I swear, somehow, I'll avenge his memory and live this life he's saved. It's been so long, since I've been able to fuck things up like I always do, but this time, I won't. I swear, this time, nothing will go wrong. I'll fight for every minute if I have to, and I know I'll win, so long as I have friends like Gob and Zack to support me.

"Hey, kid."

I lift my gaze from my arm to see Gob closing my bedroom door. He yawns, and I put my cigarette out in the old non-working sink.

"Did I wake you?"

"Nah, Zack did. He wasn't comfortable on the floor, so I handed the bed over."

I smirk, and lean against the counter. Gob comes and sits at the small kitchen table that came with the house. Believe me, I didn't go shopping or decorating. All that's here, was here before me. I made no new additions.

"You spoil him."

"He's my son. I have a right to."

"You spoil me, too."

Gob lights a smoke and raises an eyebrow at me.

"I haven't in a long time."

"Five years."

"Yeah. Zack was eleven I think, last time he saw you."

"Wow. Say it like that and you make me feel old."

Gob chuckles, and I smirk at him. Taking a seat across from him, I realize quickly I'm going to have to get use to having my Pip-Boy back on my arm. Seeing as how now, I can't rest my head on my left forearm.

"You're not old."

"Pushing mid-thirty."

"Remember, you're talking to a ghoul."

He's right.

"Call me crazy, Gob, but you might be right."

"That I am, kid. So how was it, living away from home?"

Shrugging, I stare upwards at the ceiling.

"Lonely, really, really, lonely. I thought about my life. About a lot of things."

"Of me?"

"Of course. So, you both missed me enough to come out here, and find me. Even after I did what I did?"

Gob flicks ash from the tip of his cigarette, and gives me a sideways glance.

"You've always had a way of blaming yourself for things you couldn't control."

"No I haven't."

"Alright maybe you haven't. Give me a break, your absence made my mind rusty on the memories."

"Fair enough."

"Who knows, Dez. Maybe things will change. It never hurts to be positive."

Although Gob is giving words of pearl wisdom, I can't seem to focus. I'm just staring at the ceiling, soaking in the thought of going back to the Capital Wasteland. I know after Zack and Gob rest, that'll be the option. To return with me, and start new. I suppose I should. I won't lie, I miss home. Home, meaning the Capital Wasteland and D.C. ruins. I know Gob will let me live with him, wherever it is he's living at. Until I get on my own two feet, that is. Who knows, though, maybe I'll just stay with him till this life of mine ceases to exist.

"Hey, Gob?"

"Hm?"

"You know what one of my favorite moments was?"

"What?"

I smile, remembering the moment. I haven't smiled, in such a long time.

"When Charon once told me a bedtime story. It was about a girl who wouldn't shut up, and got a swift kick in the ass."

"Ha! I take it he was referring to you?"

"Who else? Those were the days, you know. When me and him were hardly romantic but fighting the lust and love because we were too stubborn and hotheaded. You know, Zack asked about him tonight."

"I told him not to, figures he ignored me."

"No it was good. I needed…to talk about it."

Gob puts his cigarette out in the small ashtray on the table. I look at him, resting my elbows on the table. I'm surprised Cassidy hasn't come up. In both the physical aspect and Gob asking. My eyes meet with Gob's, and I sigh. Going back with him, means facing a lot of my past. It means traveling through areas, where memories between Charon and I took place. Going back to Megaton, where Charon and I had our first moment of intimacy. Emotional intimacy, I mean.

"I'm glad, then. Zack has a way of being nosy about him. It's an annoyance."

"It's called being a teenager. Oh god, you're really doing a great job at making me feel old."

Gob laughs a bit at this, and I run my fingers through my hair. It's thinned out with stress and age, and has this unkempt 'just-rolled-out-of-bed' sort of look. I like it. It suits me at this point in my life.

"That's not my intent."

"No, I know. Your intent is to bring me back to the Capital Wasteland."

"Zack say that much?"

"It's kind of obvious."

"So you going to come?"

Sighing, I wipe my nose with the back of my hand and stare at Gob. It's been five years. Five long, lonely, dazed and confused years.

"Do I really have a choice?"

"Nope."

"Where do you live now, anyways?"

"Megaton. Moria died a few years back, blew herself up during one of her experiments. Left the house and shop to Zack and myself. There's a spare room, too. You can stay there."

Wow. Moria dead. Can't say I'm shocked, though. She had a knack for screwing with dangerous things.

"What about Amata? She still live in Megaton?"

Gob nods, shrugging at the same time.

"I see her from time to time. She never comes to the shop, no reason to. She helps down at the Brass Lantern, think that's her job. Never leaves Megaton, stays below near the old puddle."

"Typical Amata."

"She'll be shocked to see you. Everyone will be."

"Let's keep me coming back below the radar. I'm not adjusted to society, Gob. I've been a recluse for five years. If I have enemies of any sort still, I don't want them to know where it is I'm shacking up just yet. Give me time."

"That's reasonable. I never thought you'd be the type to stick to solitude, though."  
"I've always wanted it. Just, got sidetracked and fell in love. You'd be surprised, though, what you can do when you're in a hole as deep as I was. Still sort of am."

Gob reaches over the table, and puts his hand over mine. It's warm, and I like the feel of his coarse, ruined skin on my own.

"Listen, kid. What happened with Charon is the past. It's time now, you move on. Not sayin' stop loving him, but just saying maybe it's time to make yourself happy now. You've more than mourned for him."

"I get what you're saying. I wish there was a way, though, for me to…redeem myself I guess."

"Live happily. Its what he wants. Or would have wanted."

Gob's right, by all means. I take my hand from beneath his, and begin ticking away at my Pip-Boy. There's a bit of a lag to it, usual since it hasn't been used in a while. Figure by now, the thing would have been broken. But, I was given one of the best models. They last, and they're reliable. It's been so long since I toyed with technology, that I'm shocked I still have the abilities for it. I guess some things don't change, no matter how much you want them to, or how much you ignore them.

"I could use a stiff drink, when we get back to Megaton. How long of a drive?"

"A day or so."

"It took me like, two weeks to walk here."

"That's because you were walking."

I roll my eyes. The thought of going back there, is both scary and inviting. Restarting life as I once knew it, is always scary. Change in and of itself, is scary. The only reason I wasn't scared when I came here, was because I had nothing to fear. No one knew me, my past, of Charon or my actions. I could be who I wanted, adopt a new name and identity if I so chose to. But back home, Megaton, the Capital Wasteland, my face is recognizable. Everything about me, is known. It's a fear that I don't like, but a change I have to accept.

A knocking on my door breaks the silence. Gob looks at me, and I know he's wondering who it could be. Since he's closer to the door than I am, I nod and give permission for him to open it. He gets up and does so, and before us stands Cassidy. I knew it was a matter of time. I don't bother to get up, but instead, wave him in.

"Come in, Cassidy."

I say. Gob looks at him, angry and confused. Cassidy takes Gob's seat, while Gob closes the door. Walking over, Gob grabs an extra chair and sits beside me. I suppose introductions are in order.

"Gob, this is Cassidy. A pain in my ass for the past five years, and the only one willing to speak to me. Cassidy, this is Gob, an old and dear friend of mine from back home. His son is sleeping in my room, so be quiet."

The two of them don't shake hands. Instead, they glare at one another. Gob I'm sure suspects Cassidy is some sort of boyfriend or fuck buddy of mine, and I'm not sure what Cassidy thinks of Gob.

"Never known you to have visitors."

Cassidy says, and I sigh.

"Aside from you banging on my door, I haven't had any."

"What brings them all the way up to these parts?"

"Me. What else? The appealing array of farmed Brahmin and Jumpers?"

Cassidy shrugs and Gob looks at me. He doesn't know what Jumpers are, they're not native to the Capital Wasteland. They're sort of like dogs, only not. Like big cats, really. The size of dogs. They can jump really far, thus the name. Nothing to worry about, though. I never had any trouble with them.

"Ah well, I just wanted to see if you were alright."

"If that's all you came here to see, you sure did make yourself comfortable."

Cassidy nods his head, tossing out a look that shows he agrees with me. I sigh and put my hands on the table, waiting for him to say something. Maybe even, to explain himself a bit.

"Well Miss Fossum, earlier you said you'd be embarking on a travel. Still going?"

"I'm going home, Cassidy. And it's just 'Dez'."

Gob looks at me, confused.

"Fossum?"

"Charon's last name."

"Ha!"

I look back at Cassidy, and narrow my eyes. He gets up, knowing now his presence isn't fully welcome. Tonight is mine and Gob's time. Cassidy has had my attention for five years, despite how brief it's been. I have no more interest in this town, these people, or this home. Now, I'm returning to where it all started. Returning, to the place I've always called home.


	11. Lacrimosa

(Charon)

When I arrive in Megaton, it's late in the night. The moon is high in the sky, and the stars are dimming against the soon-rising sun. As I walk, I feel the weight of everything, pressing down. Harder, stronger, unrelenting, merciless. I left this place, this land, a lost and broken mercenary. I return now, found, and pieced together. I feel stronger than I've ever felt before, despite my body deteriorating before my eyes. Despite the pain of near-arthritis, and the mind-numbing sensations of wars fought long ago. Although I am slowly dying, I know one thing; despite my slowing body, my hesitant mind, I still feel sympathy, for the fool who crosses me these days.

It shows on my face, where new scars have replaced the old. My body, and my armor, dawn scars that I never had before. Scars, that show the passage of time, and the sorry victims I felt no pity for murdering. A strange thing happens, when one reaches a point. A point, at which they've lost everything. They no longer have any belongings, a home, or any emotional ties. No longer, do they have comforting thoughts and friends to keep the company of. I reached that point. And I changed. Changed, perhaps not for the worse. I walk stronger than I ever have, showing my experience, my strength. Although I'm weaker than I was years ago, I use my height and my muscles as intimidation. I have nothing, in my life worth taking, and therefore, I no longer have anything to lose.

It's a virtue, but also a curse. With nothing to take from me, there is nothing to love. The only thing, that brings softness to these hardened eyes, is a memory. A flash, of an instance, of a girl, a woman now. Of Dezbe. Although, when I walk through towns, when I walk near people, I do all I can to not think of her. I do all I can, to keep the hardened look I have. To resemble, almost, a gladiator, in a sense. Someone who fights, who risks life and limb, and enjoys it. But always, will fight for someone else. And forever, be bound by chains that hold him, and eventually, fight until the death. Until, he is too old and tired, to raise his sword and shield. Until that day, when he's too slow, and his enemy takes that second hesitance, and finishes what the people have created.

I speak to no one. Not that there are many to speak to, but there are few. I walk through the gates, allowing them to close behind me. My hands are balled into fists, and I walk as if I have a purpose. Truly, I just want to speak to Gob. To have him offer me a bed to rest in, and a warm glass of whiskey. I can not say, if my stay here will be long or short. I simply know I will stay here, until my body ceases to exist. Until these bones break beneath the muscle and flesh that binds them, until my vision blurs and fades to black, until, the world as I knew it, know it, is no longer a part of me.

Coming to the old shack, I pound on the door. It echoes inside, with an empty eeriness. I wait a few moments, and knock again. Could he have perhaps, moved to another home? No, in his letters he clearly states that he has taken up permanent residence here. He, and the child I have not seen, since he was eleven.

"They're not home."

A familiar voice catches my attention. I turn to my left, to see an aged Lucas Simms standing beside me. It is too late at night, for him to be awake. I assume it comes with the duties of being sheriff. I stare at him, silent. There are no words to speak, that my mere presence can't offer.

"Haven't seen you in a while. Thought you died after all these years."

I look back at the door. Where could Gob have gone? More importantly, why was I not informed of this departure? I saw no traders on my way here, so I can only assume if he has written a letter, it was simply not delivered to me.

"What's wrong, can't speak?"

No. No I simply have nothing to say. Why should I open my mouth, if nothing useful is to come out? I look back at Lucas, narrowing my eyes and frowning a bit.

"Look, I don't know when they're going to be back. I guess he didn't know you were coming, or he wouldn't have left. They went down south for some reason. Figure they should be back within the week."

He's not home. Turning my back on Simms, I begin to walk towards the common house. If Gob is not home, then there is no point in me standing outside of his door. I came to Megaton for a purpose, and I shall wait patently. I've done nothing, but wait for five years. Wait, fight, discover, and walk. A few more days, will be of no trouble to me. The only thing that puts a damper on this, is that I simply have to wait longer, to rest.

I know reuniting with Gob will give room for questions. He'll want to know things, where I've been, how I've survived. A part of me, hopes that he won't ask. Hopes he'll know better, and keep his mouth tightly closed. But, you can only hope, if it is within reason. Such as, I do not hope or pray to see angels in the sky, as that is not within reason. Rather, I hope tomorrow it will be easier to survive, and the pain of movement won't be as severe. I hope, for the things that are within my grasp. Hoping for pipe dreams, as angels and Dez's return, is a simple waste of my time. A waste of my time, that I have very little of.

Sitting on a bed inside the common house, I unstrap my leather armor. I let the top part fall to the floor, and allow my boots to be removed. I suppose, it is strange, knowing your death is soon arriving. It is not a suicidal thought, not an attempt at ending my life by my own hand no, I'm far too stable for that. Rather, it is a simple knowing. As the old man knows that tomorrow may not be promised, as he lays on his deathbed. You can feel yourself, getting older and older, more and more tired. I have been feeling this way, for the better part of a year now. It's time, to give my body a break, as I have done with my emotions.

I still feel, just as I learned to feel nearly fifteen years ago. I can tell when something is happy, joyful, and when things are sad and depressing. I simply choose not to show them. When traveling and repenting for my past, I found the reasoning as to why emotions were forbidden where I was trained. Not only do they interfere with the mission and tasks at hand, but they also create distraction and hesitance. There were moments, when I hesitated, based on emotions. I see now, the careful and tactful reasoning, behind all of the things my trainers embedded into me. There was careful planning in their projects, and nothing was done, without cause.

Although emotions are what helped me care for Dez, and her care for me in turn, I find they're better suited for that life. Better suited, when there is someone to reciprocate them. It is a waste to have the burden of emotions, the sense of longing, when there is no one beside you. When you are alone, and have been as I was, there is little point, in missing someone. Missing someone you will never see again, touch or hold, or even hear. After a while, you simply accept they are gone, and push forward with your life. Such as I have. Even if my life, has brought me back to where it all began.

That home atop the hill. In the upstairs, left-hand bedroom of that home, I laid with Dez on a filthy mattress surrounded by debris on the floor. I have had time to think about everything, every minuet detail, every forgotten word. In the end, I have concluded that the memories keep me sane, and they are not to be coupled with emotions. At night such as it is now, it is alright to allow some memories to offer you comfort and peace. But in the day, when you are moving, waking, fighting, looking, it is better to feel nothing. Better for me, to repress the memories and images of her, so that I do not go insane.

My fingers toy with an old tear in my shirt. One that stands forth in my armor, and one that has been there for five long years. I refuse, out of memory and reminder, to repair the rips. It is the hole that came from my own knife, pressing deep within my chest. The scar I wear still on my breast, and the hole serves as a reminder, of what I nearly did. What I was so close to becoming, and what I narrowly avoided. Alike with the scars on Dez's neck, I do not forgive myself for hurting her. For causing her harm, physical pain, and allowing her to think for one second there was anger and hostility towards her. I wonder, that since I cannot forgive myself for those actions…did she?

I would understand, if she refused. If one day, I stumbled upon her traveling through this place, and she told me of her hatred. Her hate towards me, and what I did. There's no room for me to complain about it. I caused it, and it is my own cross to bear. We all have one to carry, and mine are many. From my past, leading up to this very moment as I lie here in thought, I have done things. Things I am not proud of, things that I may never speak of, but nothing I regret. Even the bad things, I view as a learning experience. I've learned from each and every incident, event, and their outcomes. I am wiser now, because of that.

Reaching in my pocket, I pull something out. A small thing, I found on one of the bodies of a victim. A man, who was none the wiser. Who challenged me when my journey began. I do not know why, but I've kept this totem. A small, wooden rosary. I've never been a man of faith. Although I have said prayers, they're nothing more than empty superstitions and stories to me. The same, as one would read of mythology. An interesting story, a vengeful God, and the war against good and evil. A former employer of mine, requested I once learn of the Bible. I know of it, yet never believed it.

Toying with the wooden cross, my fingers feel the smooth and dark wood. I see the similarities, in this world and the prophetical biblical apocalypse. I see, the strangeness in Dez's birthday. But still, I am not a man of faith. Of thought, really. This token, I suppose, is simply serving as a reminder. Perhaps, if anything holds true, I won't be condemned to a hell that I don't believe in, if I have this. Superstition. Sitting up, I look at it more in the light. A man walks in, the beds are open, and our eyes meet.

"You look familiar."

He states, the only one awake aside myself among the sleeping men. He takes the empty bed beside me, and I pocket the small rosary. I do not recognize him, nor do I wish to make conversation with him.

"Have we met before?"

I ignore his question, as I lie back down. I close my eyes, when my head hits the pillow, even though I am not tired.

"Hey, buddy I'm talking to you!"

I feel his foot kick the bed I'm on. Without a second thought, I wrap my hand around his ankle, and pull him from his bed. The commotion wakes a few in the room, and I stand over the man on the floor. Glaring at him, I wrap my hand around his neck.

"Hey! Hey! Calm down, okay? I didn't mean it!"

I am calm. I am lucid and placid, as my fingers tighten and other wanderers look at the spectacle. It is he, who is panicking. As the blood drains from his face, as his eyes roll in the back of his head and as his feet kick at nothing, I am calm. He only shares the same feelings, when the breath of his life is taken, and he stops all struggle. Releasing my hand from his throat, I think nothing more of him, as I sit back on my bed.

Whispers fill the room, and I'm reminded as to why I prefer the solitude. The whispers haunt me, as if I am a terrible person. I'm sure this man, this dead man behind me on the floor, has done things. Evil things, worth dying for. If not, he wouldn't have acted that way. Would not have opened the door so loud as to announce his arrival, would not have tried to pick a fight with me. I pay no mind to him, as I lie down on my side with my back to him. My careless demeanor, tells others to do the same.


	12. These Are My Dreams

(Charon)

When I arrive in Megaton, it's late in the night. The moon is high in the sky, and the stars are dimming against the soon-rising sun. As I walk, I feel the weight of everything, pressing down. Harder, stronger, unrelenting, merciless. I left this place, this land, a lost and broken mercenary. I return now, found, and pieced together. I feel stronger than I've ever felt before, despite my body deteriorating before my eyes. Despite the pain of near-arthritis, and the mind-numbing sensations of wars fought long ago. Although I am slowly dying, I know one thing; despite my slowing body, my hesitant mind, I still feel sympathy, for the fool who crosses me these days.

It shows on my face, where new scars have replaced the old. My body, and my armor, dawn scars that I never had before. Scars, that show the passage of time, and the sorry victims I felt no pity for murdering. A strange thing happens, when one reaches a point. A point, at which they've lost everything. They no longer have any belongings, a home, or any emotional ties. No longer, do they have comforting thoughts and friends to keep the company of. I reached that point. And I changed. Changed, perhaps not for the worse. I walk stronger than I ever have, showing my experience, my strength. Although I'm weaker than I was years ago, I use my height and my muscles as intimidation. I have nothing, in my life worth taking, and therefore, I no longer have anything to lose.

It's a virtue, but also a curse. With nothing to take from me, there is nothing to love. The only thing, that brings softness to these hardened eyes, is a memory. A flash, of an instance, of a girl, a woman now. Of Dezbe. Although, when I walk through towns, when I walk near people, I do all I can to not think of her. I do all I can, to keep the hardened look I have. To resemble, almost, a gladiator, in a sense. Someone who fights, who risks life and limb, and enjoys it. But always, will fight for someone else. And forever, be bound by chains that hold him, and eventually, fight until the death. Until, he is too old and tired, to raise his sword and shield. Until that day, when he's too slow, and his enemy takes that second hesitance, and finishes what the people have created.

I speak to no one. Not that there are many to speak to, but there are few. I walk through the gates, allowing them to close behind me. My hands are balled into fists, and I walk as if I have a purpose. Truly, I just want to speak to Gob. To have him offer me a bed to rest in, and a warm glass of whiskey. I can not say, if my stay here will be long or short. I simply know I will stay here, until my body ceases to exist. Until these bones break beneath the muscle and flesh that binds them, until my vision blurs and fades to black, until, the world as I knew it, know it, is no longer a part of me.

Coming to the old shack, I pound on the door. It echoes inside, with an empty eeriness. I wait a few moments, and knock again. Could he have perhaps, moved to another home? No, in his letters he clearly states that he has taken up permanent residence here. He, and the child I have not seen, since he was eleven.

"They're not home."

A familiar voice catches my attention. I turn to my left, to see an aged Lucas Simms standing beside me. It is too late at night, for him to be awake. I assume it comes with the duties of being sheriff. I stare at him, silent. There are no words to speak, that my mere presence can't offer.

"Haven't seen you in a while. Thought you died after all these years."

I look back at the door. Where could Gob have gone? More importantly, why was I not informed of this departure? I saw no traders on my way here, so I can only assume if he has written a letter, it was simply not delivered to me.

"What's wrong, can't speak?"

No. No I simply have nothing to say. Why should I open my mouth, if nothing useful is to come out? I look back at Lucas, narrowing my eyes and frowning a bit.

"Look, I don't know when they're going to be back. I guess he didn't know you were coming, or he wouldn't have left. They went down south for some reason. Figure they should be back within the week."

He's not home. Turning my back on Simms, I begin to walk towards the common house. If Gob is not home, then there is no point in me standing outside of his door. I came to Megaton for a purpose, and I shall wait patently. I've done nothing, but wait for five years. Wait, fight, discover, and walk. A few more days, will be of no trouble to me. The only thing that puts a damper on this, is that I simply have to wait longer, to rest.

I know reuniting with Gob will give room for questions. He'll want to know things, where I've been, how I've survived. A part of me, hopes that he won't ask. Hopes he'll know better, and keep his mouth tightly closed. But, you can only hope, if it is within reason. Such as, I do not hope or pray to see angels in the sky, as that is not within reason. Rather, I hope tomorrow it will be easier to survive, and the pain of movement won't be as severe. I hope, for the things that are within my grasp. Hoping for pipe dreams, as angels and Dez's return, is a simple waste of my time. A waste of my time, that I have very little of.

Sitting on a bed inside the common house, I unstrap my leather armor. I let the top part fall to the floor, and allow my boots to be removed. I suppose, it is strange, knowing your death is soon arriving. It is not a suicidal thought, not an attempt at ending my life by my own hand no, I'm far too stable for that. Rather, it is a simple knowing. As the old man knows that tomorrow may not be promised, as he lays on his deathbed. You can feel yourself, getting older and older, more and more tired. I have been feeling this way, for the better part of a year now. It's time, to give my body a break, as I have done with my emotions.

I still feel, just as I learned to feel nearly fifteen years ago. I can tell when something is happy, joyful, and when things are sad and depressing. I simply choose not to show them. When traveling and repenting for my past, I found the reasoning as to why emotions were forbidden where I was trained. Not only do they interfere with the mission and tasks at hand, but they also create distraction and hesitance. There were moments, when I hesitated, based on emotions. I see now, the careful and tactful reasoning, behind all of the things my trainers embedded into me. There was careful planning in their projects, and nothing was done, without cause.

Although emotions are what helped me care for Dez, and her care for me in turn, I find they're better suited for that life. Better suited, when there is someone to reciprocate them. It is a waste to have the burden of emotions, the sense of longing, when there is no one beside you. When you are alone, and have been as I was, there is little point, in missing someone. Missing someone you will never see again, touch or hold, or even hear. After a while, you simply accept they are gone, and push forward with your life. Such as I have. Even if my life, has brought me back to where it all began.

That home atop the hill. In the upstairs, left-hand bedroom of that home, I laid with Dez on a filthy mattress surrounded by debris on the floor. I have had time to think about everything, every minuet detail, every forgotten word. In the end, I have concluded that the memories keep me sane, and they are not to be coupled with emotions. At night such as it is now, it is alright to allow some memories to offer you comfort and peace. But in the day, when you are moving, waking, fighting, looking, it is better to feel nothing. Better for me, to repress the memories and images of her, so that I do not go insane.

My fingers toy with an old tear in my shirt. One that stands forth in my armor, and one that has been there for five long years. I refuse, out of memory and reminder, to repair the rips. It is the hole that came from my own knife, pressing deep within my chest. The scar I wear still on my breast, and the hole serves as a reminder, of what I nearly did. What I was so close to becoming, and what I narrowly avoided. Alike with the scars on Dez's neck, I do not forgive myself for hurting her. For causing her harm, physical pain, and allowing her to think for one second there was anger and hostility towards her. I wonder, that since I cannot forgive myself for those actions…did she?

I would understand, if she refused. If one day, I stumbled upon her traveling through this place, and she told me of her hatred. Her hate towards me, and what I did. There's no room for me to complain about it. I caused it, and it is my own cross to bear. We all have one to carry, and mine are many. From my past, leading up to this very moment as I lie here in thought, I have done things. Things I am not proud of, things that I may never speak of, but nothing I regret. Even the bad things, I view as a learning experience. I've learned from each and every incident, event, and their outcomes. I am wiser now, because of that.

Reaching in my pocket, I pull something out. A small thing, I found on one of the bodies of a victim. A man, who was none the wiser. Who challenged me when my journey began. I do not know why, but I've kept this totem. A small, wooden rosary. I've never been a man of faith. Although I have said prayers, they're nothing more than empty superstitions and stories to me. The same, as one would read of mythology. An interesting story, a vengeful God, and the war against good and evil. A former employer of mine, requested I once learn of the Bible. I know of it, yet never believed it.

Toying with the wooden cross, my fingers feel the smooth and dark wood. I see the similarities, in this world and the prophetical biblical apocalypse. I see, the strangeness in Dez's birthday. But still, I am not a man of faith. Of thought, really. This token, I suppose, is simply serving as a reminder. Perhaps, if anything holds true, I won't be condemned to a hell that I don't believe in, if I have this. Superstition. Sitting up, I look at it more in the light. A man walks in, the beds are open, and our eyes meet.

"You look familiar."

He states, the only one awake aside myself among the sleeping men. He takes the empty bed beside me, and I pocket the small rosary. I do not recognize him, nor do I wish to make conversation with him.

"Have we met before?"

I ignore his question, as I lie back down. I close my eyes, when my head hits the pillow, even though I am not tired.

"Hey, buddy I'm talking to you!"

I feel his foot kick the bed I'm on. Without a second thought, I wrap my hand around his ankle, and pull him from his bed. The commotion wakes a few in the room, and I stand over the man on the floor. Glaring at him, I wrap my hand around his neck.

"Hey! Hey! Calm down, okay? I didn't mean it!"

I am calm. I am lucid and placid, as my fingers tighten and other wanderers look at the spectacle. It is he, who is panicking. As the blood drains from his face, as his eyes roll in the back of his head and as his feet kick at nothing, I am calm. He only shares the same feelings, when the breath of his life is taken, and he stops all struggle. Releasing my hand from his throat, I think nothing more of him, as I sit back on my bed.

Whispers fill the room, and I'm reminded as to why I prefer the solitude. The whispers haunt me, as if I am a terrible person. I'm sure this man, this dead man behind me on the floor, has done things. Evil things, worth dying for. If not, he wouldn't have acted that way. Would not have opened the door so loud as to announce his arrival, would not have tried to pick a fight with me. I pay no mind to him, as I lie down on my side with my back to him. My careless demeanor, tells others to do the same.

The ride back home, to Megaton, killed my back. We hit a lot of rocks, bumps, ditches and scary uphill climbs. Over and over, Zack reassured me Gob was the safest driver around. I don't give a Molerat's ass on how safe he is, it won't stop us from flying head-first into a ditch. So you can imagine, how relieved I am when we reach Megaton. When I can see it, against the setting sun. It's been a while, since I've been home. A while, since I could proudly stand on my own two feet.

Getting out of the truck, I stretch and light a cigarette. Gob does the same, and Zack simply stretches. I suppose Gob prevents him from smoking. Good, it's a filthy habit. Which is exactly why I picked it up. What badass heroine doesn't smoke, anyways? It just fits who I am. Or rather, who I once was.

Remembering myself like that, the old days, brings me a bit of sadness. The adventures, laughs, fights, and everything in between I had along the way, seem so far away. Seem like, really a waste. A waste, because now Charon isn't here, to enjoy the downtime we both so rightfully deserve. Since Gob, Zack and I left the small town by the sea, I've been asking myself…has it all been worth it? With the scars I have, comes a memory. A memory, that's either happy or sad depending. Was it worth it all in the end? Worth giving this world clean water, which eventually changed to rain? Worth risking all I had and losing in the end, for a world I no longer feel I belong in? I can't say, because it's not the end of my journey yet. You can never tell with life, if it matter or not, until it's almost over. There's a lot of years left in me, decades even. It'll be a while, before I can honestly answer that question.

"Ready to head inside, kid?"

I'm staring out at where Vault 101 is. Staring at the vast Capital Wasteland. It's all so new, yet so old at the same time. I look over, and see the Washington Monument. It's still there, just like it was when I left the vault. When I left the Citadel, and returned from New Vegas. It's there, welcoming me into this world, as it always has been. I'm glad it withstood the bombs, the war and all else that came after. Because without it, there'd be nothing to look forward to, when coming home.

"Yeah, yeah I guess."

I hear Gob opening the gate as I take one last look around. Its stayed the same, and I wonder why it feels so different. Maybe, because since I've been gone, I've changed. Gob was right, with what he said about getting over Charon back at the house I resided in. It's not a home to me, that house. Just a simple shell, of what I hid in. But even though Gob was right, giving up Charon isn't something I can do overnight. I've tried, believe me I've tried, to erase the memory and pain of that day. I haven't been able to, though. Charon was the pills, that took my pain away. He was the light that helped me find my way, and he was the words to speak, when I had nothing to say. Charon…was everything to me. I wonder, if when I die and get to whatever heaven he's in, if he'll remember my name. If he'll look at me the same, and it'll all be alright. If he'll take my hand, like he used to so many days ago, and lead me into another whirlwind adventure.

I realize now, that adventure doesn't have to be something like I've done. That it doesn't mean going to unknown places, and fighting the bad guys. The best adventure I've been on, was the one I was taking with Charon. Through the feeling and learning of new emotions, to the arguments and tears and upsets, and finally to the three years we spent with one another, not caring about anything in the world. Those three years, as dull and mundane as they may seem to outside eyes, was the best adventure I ever had. Life, with Charon alone like that, was my own personal adventure of emotions, love, and fickle arguments. There wasn't a time, where neither one of us stopped loving each other.

"It hasn't changed much, has it?"

I hear Zack say as we walk through the gates of Megaton. I look around, a bit hesitant to keep walking. But I don't let it show. I feel like a child being introduced to the world all over again. It's scary, and frightful. I hide my face behind my hair as I smoke a cigarette.

"No, it hasn't."

Maybe this is what I need right now. This consistency of my old home never changing. Megaton by all means, can expand and grow into something new and unrecognizable. But it hasn't. It's stayed perfectly how I remember it, and I wonder if Charon truly was the only constant in my life, or if I was just blind to all that was constant.

"After you settle in, we can go up and get a drink at the saloon if you want."

Gob offers, but I shake my head. We travel down the hill, and I notice the Brahmin that used to stand and graze outside Doc Church's is gone. Maybe he died of old age. I don't really know.

"I think I just want to stay in tonight. Driving is exhausting, and a bit sickening."

Gob and Zack laugh at my forced humor. I don't want to let them know, the true feelings going through my body. To be honest, I keep expecting Charon to appear. To jump from nowhere and say 'Surprise!', but I know that's stupid. Even if he was around to this day, it wouldn't be in his nature to do that. If Charon was alive right now, he'd have come and sought me out himself. I know that much.

Getting to Gob's, he unlocks the door and I step in. The same musky smell, the same arrangement of tables, counters, and whatnot. Nothing has really changed. I run my fingers over the counter near the cap register, and give a small smile to it all. I think now, I should give myself a break, and be happy.

"I haven't done much to the place. No real need to."

"This suits you. It does. Better than working at the saloon anyways."

Gob chuckles as Zack walks up to his room. He has me back now, and spent enough time with me on the drive here. Teenage boys need their space, and Gob and I watch him vanish into his room.

"I don't want to know what he does up there alone."

Gob says, and I sit on the counter, feeling alive and young. It's nice.

"Whacking off."

"I said I didn't want to know."

I smile as Gob rolls his eyes and groans. He sets down the small pack of things they brought with him, and motions for me to follow him into the back room. I listen, and there I'm presented with his messy, cluttered workspace. And a free chair. I sit in that chair, and look around at how much things have changed. At least, for Gob, anyways.

"So what's it like being a parent? Indulge us childless beings."

"Worrisome, troublesome, exhausting."

"Doesn't sound like fun."

Gob lights a cigarette as I put mine out. He sits in another chair, and grabs a bottle of whiskey off the workbench. He takes a sip, and offers it to me. I sip it and put the cap on. I haven't drank in a long time, so I need to be careful.

"It's more fun than you can imagine. Shit, he's my best friend."

"I thought I was your best friend."

"You know what I mean."

He tosses a dirty rag at me in play, and I laugh.

"Seriously, though, what's it like?"

"Fulfilling. Knowing I raised a good kid, with a good heart, it's really a great gig. He reminds me so much of Nova, you know. With his always wanting to do the right thing, and caring for others. Sure as hell don't get that from me."

I smile sadly, as Gob praises and talks up being a parent. He notices the smile, and brings his chair closer to me.

"What's the face for?"

"…Charon and I decided we'd try for a family, you know. We wanted to, and were going to go to Rivet City to see if Doc Barrows could help, but…we never made it. I guess this is what women who can't have children feel. I don't feel sad but, empty. Like I just barely missed the life people dream of out here."

"You can still have a family."

"I don't want a child, who isn't anything like Charon. I wanted…to have what you have with Zack. You don't have Nova, but you have a part of her. I know when you look at him, you see her. Because I do."

Gob puts his hand on my leg, understanding like a mature adult. If I could, I'd be nineteen forever. Then there'd be no need to procreate, no longing for a man I'll never see again, and no hurting over someone who isn't going to come to me. Then, I'd be wild, and free, and wouldn't know any better.

"…I know what you're trying to say, kid. I'm sorry it couldn't happen. Although, I can't picture Charon being fatherly."

"He would have made an excellent father. Aside from those blackouts, he was perfect. I wouldn't worry about any harm coming to the kid, that Charon's parenting. If it was safe for me to be next to him, then it was safer for that child. I wonder, what he would have looked like."

"Well he'd have red hair, cuz you both have that."

"My hair is _not_ red. I'm burnt sienna."

Gob looks at my hair and nods in agreement.

"I see it now."

"Did it really take you that long to figure out my hair color?"

"No offence kid but I'm not really paying attention to that when you're with me. Usually we're talking about more important things."

"It was pink once."

"I remember that."

We laugh with one another, sharing the bottle of whiskey. We recount old memories. Ones that makes us laugh, and smile. It's nice to let loose with an old friend, in a town and home you're familiar with. I don't feel my absence here has made much of a difference to the people, but to Gob and Zack, it has. I can see it in their eyes, when they look at me. Like they can't believe I'm living, breathing and back in their lives. It makes me sad, to see how much they missed me. I can't be a wet blanket to them. After they drove all the way down there to get me and bring me back, the least I can do for them is to enjoy the renewed life they've given me.

Once again, the world is at my fingertips. Gob can fix me up with a nice, new shotgun, and I can head out into the great beyond once more. Traveling the Wasteland as I once did, talking to no one but myself. Truth is, though, I'm not sure I want to. I've been all the places there is to go in this land, and seen all there is to see. Fought all the people there were to fight, and left nothing but a trail of dust and debris behind me. For a while, I want to do what I never did. Focus on Gob, on Zack, and live a quiet life. I did that with Charon for three years, but I was never able to do it with Gob. Not nearly in the same sense, but I think I owe it to Gob. Owe it to him, to stick around longer than a few weeks, and fully enjoy his friendship. There's always later, to discover some new thing to investigate, to make new enemies along the way, and to search in buildings I never searched in before.

"Remember when you shot Moriarty?"

Gob brings up a funny memory. I smile, proud and a bit drunk.

"He didn't know what was coming. He was all 'Oh no! Don't kill me lass I'm just a poor barkeep I'll be nicer to Gob' and I was all 'Pew, pew, pew'!"

I slap my knee as we laugh together. Sure that's not how it really happened, but give me a break. It adds humor to it, and Gob runs a hand over his face.

"You were so wild back then…"

"I'm _still_ wild, Gob. Don't think that just because I've been away that I've changed."

"You have changed. We all have. But I won't doubt you're still wild. Hate to see what happens when you get your hand on a gun…"

"Fun and exciting things, Gob. Fun and exciting things."

I finish off the bottle of whiskey, and put it down on the floor beside me. Zack's been up in his room, probably sleeping. It's impossible to relax in the truck while it's hitting every fuckin' rock there is to hit. Standing up, the whiskey hits me. I haven't had any liquor in five years. Aside from smoking and eating, I've done very little to none of things. The room spins a bit, as I yawn and burp at the same time. My thoughts get foggy, congested, and my body doesn't feel like my own.

"Hey, kid maybe you should sit down. You're swaying."

Smiling stupidly, I look at Gob. There's three of him, and I wave.

"I feel _fine_."

I say, drunk to the point where I'm slurring my pauses. My body sways, and the movement makes me feel sick. It's hot and stuffy in this place, but I shake my head and deal with it.

"Hey…re-remember when-when we s-s-slept together?"

Gob's face tightens up for a minute. I go to sit down, but miss the chair and fall on my ass. I just drank most of a big bottle of whiskey after a five-year break. This screams bad idea.

"Yeah, come on. Get up, I remember."

Gob comes over and grabs my arm. He helps me to his feet, and I fall into him.

"I've been…_so_ lonely all alone…alone…alone…"

"Keep it together kid, come on let's get you to bed."

"You smell."

Gob tries to pick me up, but I play dead weight and cling to him. He falls on the floor with me, and I find this unusually hysterical. Laughing at the situation, I feel Gob letting my arm go and giving up. He lays next to me on the floor, shaking his head.

"I shouldn't have let you drink."

"I am d-d-drunk! The room, it's spinny spin, spin…"

He stands up, and with difficulty gets me to stand too. Once I have my bearings and sense of balance, I look around. It's far too hot in here. Down by the shore, there was at least a sea breeze. Here there's nothing. No-thing. Shaking my head, I stumble over to the door that leads to the main room.

"Kid? Where're you goin?"

"Walk. Walk. Need air. Be back…_later_."

I hear him sigh, like he's dealing with a child. It makes me grin, as I open the door and head out to Megaton.


	13. We're So Far Away

(Gob)

Goddamnit. I really should have stopped her after a few sips. But shit, you get caught up in the moment and forget how many you've had and when you stand up…you're back on the floor, face-first. Figure a walk outside and some fresh air won't hurt. Dez ain't that kind of drunk where she'll wander far. At least, she never use to be. I'll give it an hour, before I head on out to look for her. Probably just going to curl up and pass out somewhere. No one in this town will mess with her. Even though we've had new people move in, the ones that stayed will give them fair warning. And nothin' against her, but the men around here don't like women with that many scars. They think they're worth something more than that, I guess. Forgettin' they're living in the Capital Wasteland, and Megaton don't hold many unscarred females. Oh well. Their cockiness ain't my problem.

Heading out to the main room with the empty whiskey bottle, I toss it in the trash and sigh. She brought up somethin' that I haven't talked to anyone about. Shit not even Zack knows about those months. Where me an' Dez were sleepin' together and filling the holes our lovers left. It's been bothering me, shit it always had. There's always been feelings for Dez in my heart. Since I met her, I've always had a schoolboy crush on her. Of course, I've always loved and cared for Nova, but in a different sense. With Nova, our sex was emotional, raw, loving. With Dez, it felt like I was fulfilling my duties of being a friend. Offering comfort and stress relief when she needed it.

Suppose that's all it is, really. We want to be good friends to one another, and eventually came to rely on each other for even sexual comfort. Ain't nothin' wrong with that, really. Watching her go back to Charon wasn't as hard as I figured it would be. I was more upset, over the thought of him hurting her again, than I was over her leaving me. She deserves the best, that girl. Compared to Charon I'm a stick in the mud, so I understand why she's always loved him more. She's always loved me though, in a different kind of way.

It always bothered me, when they'd fight or when he'd get lost. Lost in a mental sense, really. Like un-ghoulifying himself and letting all those repressed sexual desires get the best of him. I never wanted Dez to get hurt, but it happened like all things happen. I never thought I was better than Charon, or that she should have been with me instead, but rather felt angry. Angry that he couldn't see what sort of woman he had. Eventually, though, he did. Took him a while, and circumstances prove he needed some time to realize it. I was glad, when they said they were going to live up in that old abandoned house. Finally, she got the stability she needed and deserved, even if it was cut short, Charon gave it to her.

I don't know how to tell her he's alive. I don't know how to go about that entire conversation, without feeling like a complete asshole. What kind of friend does that, anyways? Let's their best friend think for years, they're the cause of something horrible when really, they're not. Charon asked me time and time again in his first few letters, to not ever tell Dez he was alive. Said he needed time. He also just recently said, he was coming back to Megaton. Not sure how that's going to play out. I can only hope he got my letter. If he did, then time isn't on my side, and I need to figure out how to break this news to Dez.

Personally I don't think she's stable enough for it. Shit, if you saw her there, in that house like me an' Zack did…you'd wonder too. When you believe something for five years, and then all of a sudden find out everything you thought was real, isn't…shit happens. Dez is highly sensitive and easily upset. She won't admit that, but she is. Hearing Charon is alive can go one of two ways. Either exceedingly good, to the point where the color comes back to her face and she lights up just like she once did, or horribly bad to the point of near-insanity. I'd be thrilled if it was the first of the two, but I'd feel like I was the cause of it if it went wrong. I don't know. It's a moral dilemma.

As I'm leaning against the counter with the empty cap register to my left, I sigh. I empty that register every night, and lock what I made during the day in the safe. You never know what kind of loons hang around here, and there's a large sum of money. While I'm thinking about how much I've saved up, a heavy knock echoes throughout the house. I figure it's Dez. When she's this drunk she often forgets how to do simple tasks. Like open doors. It's happened in the past at Moriarty's. Once, she even forgot how to walk. Although I think she was just being dramatic.  
"Get sick of walking around Megaton already?"

I say as I open the door. Then I shit a brick. It ain't Dez, drunk and belligerent at my front door. No, it's worse. It's Charon, and fuck if he doesn't look worse for wear. He says nothing to me, just stares down at me with empty eyes. Shit, Dez might be in the area, and see this. I don't want her finding out this news drunk. Then the whole fuckin' town is in danger. That bomb may be deactivated, but something tells me it ain't too hard for her to reactivate it.

"Shit, get in here."

Opening the door wider, Charon pushes past me and inside the house in two long strides. I quickly shut the door, and usher him into the back room. He notices the alarm on my face, and calmly stands in the middle of my workroom as I close and lock the door behind me. He says nothing. Why now? When the hell did he get here and how long has he been in town? His letter came two days ago, and I can't believe he's made it here so fast.

"Charon, what are you _doing_ here? I thought you'd be here in like, a month. Not two fuckin' days."

Charon stays quiet. He drops his gun to the floor and folds his arms. Fuck, he looks terrible. I mean, he looks the same but to a friend's eyes, he's changed. There's a different air around him. Similar to the air he had when he was workin' for Ahzrukhal, except a lot fuckin' scarier. His eyes are empty, like Dez's and they don't have the same light of life they once had. It don't look like he's smiled in years, and there's dark circles on the flesh beneath his eyes. Like he did in Underworld, Charon says nothing. Just stands with his arms folded, his presence intimidating. This is not the same man, that played with my son so many years ago.

Although Nova's death changed me in a way, I've still stayed the same. It hurt, like one would think, but never did I let myself get lost in it. Are my two friends, truly so bound to one another that when they're apart, it looks like they're slowly dying? I ain't never been one, to be spiritual or anything like that, but I wonder if they're the embodiment of 'soul mates'. Even in Underworld, when Charon would do nothing but stand in a corner day in and day out, he never looked this bad. Never had this look of death on his face, or the air of complete maniac. It ain't fuckin' nice, let me tell you. It almost…hurts me to look at him.

"Charon…look you…shit you really came at a bad time."

He raises an eyebrow, like he doesn't know what the hell I'm talking about. Wait, did he get my letter? If not then…then he has no idea. It doesn't seem like he has any idea, or else I'm sure he'd be actin' a whole lot different. Frustrated, I hit my head with my palm and groan.

"Damnit! I take it you didn't ever receive my letter."

Charon shakes his head, still silent.

"That's jus' fuckin' great. Great. Fuckin' great…alright look. Shit. Charon you can't stay here right now."

He shrugs, not caring. Not thinking that there's any reason for him to take me seriously. I don't know what the hell to do.

"Go-ob!"

Fuck. The second that door outside slams and that voice penetrates the walls, I know I'm in shit. I look over at Charon, and he has this…forlorn expression on his face. His eyes widen, his body stretches up a bit, and he stares at the door like he's in some sort of crippling pain.

"Just _be quiet_!"

I hiss and walk over to the door. Unlocking it I slide out carefully, making sure the drunken Dez doesn't catch a glimpse of a dead man walking.

"Hey, you're back."

"It's stupid!"

Yeah, great.

"Megaton is lame, I agree. Alright here, why don't you go on up to bed, and I'll meet you there."

"Guna fuck me?"

Shit. I hold my breath, listening for the cocking of Charon's gun. But I don't hear shit. Dez is drunk right now, she ain't in her right state of mind. I have to play along, and still make sure I don't lose my head in the process.

"You're drunk, I'd be taking advantage. Go upstairs."

I mention loudly she's drunk, hoping Charon won't assume I've bedded his woman. As apart they may be, as over their relationship is, I see and understand now…she is his woman, and he is her man. No matter what others may come in between them, it will always be that way.

"I haven't fucked in _five_ years _come on_!"

"Then another night won't kill you. Go upstairs."

"You smell like Brahmin and leather, Gob. You smell like Molerat."

"I know."

"Come on, come up with me!"

"I have some work I need to do, why don't you head on up and I'll meet you up there when I'm done."

"Sex?"

"If I say 'yes' will you go upstairs?"

She nods, smiling and hiccupping.

"Alright, fine just go."

I'm afraid she's gonna try and kiss me or something. Luckily she doesn't, and starts to head on up the stairs. Right when all you can see is the back of her legs, Charon comes out of the back room. I don't make a move to grab him, you wouldn't get in the way of a charging elephant, after all. I say nothin', as he stares at the back of Dez's vanishing ankles. His lips mouth her name, and even though he's probably become some cold and heartless being, there's still love in there for her. I can see, how much he truly does miss her.

When the door upstairs slam, Charon glares at me. Alright I'm scared for my life at this point, but he makes no move to attack me. Instead he hurls himself outside, kicking open the door so hard it nearly breaks off the fuckin' hinges. I follow him, cuz I really got no other choice.

"What is she doing here?"

He asks, his voice raspier than I remember.

"If you fuckin' got my letter you'd _know_!"

"I saw no traders on my way here!"

"That ain't my problem!"

"How did she get here, Gob?"

When I don't answer right away, he gets mad. I light a cigarette to help steady my hands, and offer one to him. He takes it, but he's still pissed.

"How?"

"Look, I didn't cause this, I jus' got caught in the middle, alright? Zack went behind my back and hired some fuckin' traders to keep an eye out for her. When they found her, they told him and if I didn't listen then my kid woulda gone wanderin' alone out there. So we went, and picked her up."

He glares at me. Shit, he's gotten mean. He's always been partial towards me, but never like this. I ain't never felt scared of him before, in all the years I've known him. I'm scared of him now. Is this the same man, who Dez loved, or someone entirely different? With that in mind, I wonder if reuniting them is truly in Dez's best interest. Not only is the man she loved alive, but he's nothing like she remembers him to be.

"And you felt the need to keep this from me?"

"If you got my fuckin' letter you'd _know_ this! I kept _shit_ from you. If anything, I'm lying to her. She has no idea you're alive, but that's because you've told me not to say a damned word."

"And so you're going to take her now, is that it?"

"Charon I ain't never said nothin' like that. Fuck if you think that I have a chance, then you haven't seen her."

"I have not seen her in five years."

"Right well…shit."

The tone gets sad, and I don't feel so scared of him anymore. We lean against the railing, as Charon waits for some sort of explination.

"…She looks like death, Charon. The sun-tanned girl that we all knew before…I don't know. She's pale, and thinner. Her face is almost chalk-white and fuck if she hasn't been moping about you all this time. Getting her out of that house wasn't hard, but I could tell it wasn't easy. Her house down south, I mean. All she's been doing, is sitting in that house alone. Made no friends, made no enemies, alone. Ain't no one knows a thing about her down there, and I think she just stopped caring. I always figured she'd care about herself if no one else, but she didn't. Doesn't."

He waits for me to continue on. I take a drag of my cigarette, and sigh out the smoke.

"I'm not sure, what would have happened if Zack had found her any later than he did. She still loves you, Charon. As much as she did the first time you two met. It's killing her."

I look up at my friend. He looks almost worse than Dez. I guess I never realized before, how deeply they cared for each other. How attached they grew, how deep in their world they had fallen. Shit. I'd do anything to fix this, but this isn't something easy. I can't just tell him to go on up there, and say hello. It ain't that simple. I wish it was, though. Fuck I wish it was. It hurts to see my two friends, in so much pain.

"Take care of her."

"What?"

"You heard me. Take care of her. Care for her, feed her, nurture whatever needs she has. If she's truly been alone, then she needs you now. I refuse to be responsible for any more pain caused to her."

"You don't want to see her?"

He looks at me, sharp and angry.

"How could I? How can I face her, after letting her believe all this time I ceased to exist? What kind of man would that make me, Gob? What kind of lover would I be, to walk into her life now and expect her to accept me with open arms? Make her hate me. Make her curse the day I was born, and make her never miss me again. It has been too long. Our story is over. Start a new one with her."

I don't know what to say. Here stands a man, so in love with a woman, that he cannot bring himself to see her. That he feels the pain of him returning, is greater than the pain he caused by leaving. I can only respect his wish, but it doesn't mean I can't argue it.

"Give her time, Charon. Look, in a few days after she's rested I'll tell her everything. It'll be slow, but I think if I go about it the right way, she'll be alright with it."

"You will do no such thing."

"And why's that?"

"Because I no longer deserve to have her. She is not the youthful woman I once met. She is older, and now wiser. I cannot…cannot do things as I once did, around her. A woman, at this time in their life, is tired. They no longer want the petty games men bring. They want to be taken care of, after a life of taking care of us."

"Then take care of her."

"That is your job now, Gob."

"Look, just don't leave Megaton. We can figure this out. You know her, Charon. She's going to find out one way or another, you're alive."

He's quiet as I talk, listening to what I have to say.

"And you know when she does, she's going to look for you. She's going to up and leave here, and set off to find you. It might not be right away, but it'll happen. You know this."

"Don't let her find out. Burn my letters if you have them, if she talks of me use the past-tense. If she asks anything, lie to her. Protect her. I'm not the man I was, Gob. I do not deserve the pleasure and comfort, of having her return to me."

"…If this is what you want."

"It is not what I want, but it is what is right."

I don't know what to say to him. There ain't no changing his mind, there's nothing I can say that would possibly move him. Ain't nothing left to do now, except listen to what he has to say, and do what he wants me to do. I don't agree with it, but I understand. Dez probably won't be partial to him coming back so suddenly, and it's best to leave well enough alone. I wish there was another way, but shit I know there isn't.

"You should get inside. She might be waiting for you."

There's hurt in his voice. I don't know how I feel about this entire thing anymore. I don't say anythin' back to him. Don't have nothing to say. I just nod my head, and let him walk on out of Megaton. Leave, like it ain't no big deal. He don't tell me where he's going, and I think that's for the safety of Dez. If I knew, I would tell her. Both of us know that much. Still, it hurts. Hurts me to see my two closest and only friends this far gone, and hurts me to see one of them simply walk away from it all. There ain't nothin' more, I can do though.


	14. Last Chance

(Zack)

My dad forgets my room faces outside. He forgets, that the heat of this house makes me sleep with it open. He also forgets, that I'm a light sleeper. It probably wasn't going through his head, when all of this was happening. Now, I don't know what to do. I've always thought…you know the same thing as Dez. That Charon was dead or something like that. I didn't think for an instant he was alive. Not one bit. My dad obviously knew otherwise, though. And he did a good job at keeping it a secret, I have to give him that.

I guess I'm a bit angry at him, you know? I mean, who wouldn't be? Dez and Charon meant a lot to me when I was growing up, and for him to keep a secret like this from me…really hurts. I mean…maybe he was doing it for I don't know, my own safety? But I can't think of any reason why Charon would hurt me. He wouldn't, I know that and dad knows that. Not finding a logical reason, just makes me even more mad. How could he keep this from Dez? Not just from me, because I'm not as important to Charon as she is. That's okay I understand that, you know adults and their dependencies. But, from her? From the one person who has every right to know? It's really illogical if you ask me.

I hear him coming up the steps, and I figure if I don't talk to him about it now, there's never going to be another time to. I've been up for a while, since Dez stormed out drunk as all hell. So I mean, it's not like I'm just tuning into this conversation. There's obvious tension between my dad and her, and I can't help but think he's getting some sort of pleasure out of this. I don't want to think that though. I don't want my dad to be the bad guy. He's always been the good guy to me.

Opening my door, I see dad on the top step.

"Hey, dad?"

He looks at me, and he looks really tired. Driving must really make him sleepy. Stepping out of my room, I hold the doorknob in my hand for balance. I think dad's worried, because he's giving me that look he gives when he knows he's been caught doing something. Like smoking near gunpowder.

"What're you doin' up?"

"Dad, why didn't you tell her?"

I can't help but dive right into the conversation I mean…it's my aunt. It's my aunt and she's just so sad and crushed and here my dad holds the secret and solution to the problem and he isn't offering it up.

"Zack, you're too young to understand this, alright?"

"No, dad. Really why? Just tell me, I mean, I heard the conversation and all but you can still tell her. Look at her, she's near-dead."

My dad moves towards me, hearing the emotion coming up in my voice. I'm usually pretty calm, but when something upsets me, I get upset. Dad says I get that from mom.

"If you heard, then you have to _swear_ you won't breathe a word of it to her. Zack, this is serious, are you listening?"

I shake my head, my heart beating really fast.

"I can't…I can't do that. Wouldn't you want to know if mom was alive?"

"Of course I would. If she was I'd give anything to know, but she isn't, son. She died, I saw her die."

"Yeah and Dez saw Charon die too!"

"Keep it down."

"No! No it isn't _fair_, dad! Why should…why should she have to suffer anymore? Hasn't she done that enough?"

"Zack, listen to me, you're young and impulsive. You don't know what you're doing, alright?"

"I'm _sixteen_, dad!"

"Then act like it."  
I glare at him. I can tell he's tired, sick of this, and wants to go to bed. But I can't let him. I mean, would I be a good person if I partook in this, too?

"I am."

I don't really want to talk to him anymore, so I go back in my room. I hope Dez is awake. I really do. Then she'd know, and no one would have had to tell her. I can't…I can't lie to her. You know I mean, my dad can do it and he calls it 'safety'. It's not safety, it's lying. I think, after living a life like hers, there shouldn't be anymore lies. She deserves the truth more than anyone, and Charon means more to her than anyone. I know this because…even when you're a little kid you know. You know how they feel, when they look at one another. It's not like I was blind my whole life, or stupid. I know things, I do. My dad he…he just doesn't want to realize it. Doesn't want me to grow up, I guess.

I can hear him down the hall in his room. I know Dez went in there, but I'm not sure if they're having sex. Frankly, I'd be pissed off if they were. I mean, how could he do that? Even though he's my dad and I love him, I'd lose a lot of respect for him if he did that. Charon said, and I heard it, that dad needed to take care of Dez and start a new story with her. If that was even possible, I wouldn't like it. I know it'd make my dad happy, to have a woman and settle down, but…not her. She belongs with Charon. If it did happen, though, I guess I'd have to live with it. Because I can't really just leave here.

Telling Dez is going to be really, really hard. I mean, I was convinced for the same amount of time that Charon wasn't around. Hearing he's still alive is shocking, but it's also…easy for me to accept it, I guess. There's no emotional ties between me and him like there is with Dez. I love Charon because he's my uncle and great, but it's…a different sense of closeness. You know? Like how my dad loves Dez, and my mom, and it's all okay because there's two different kinds of love. Growing up isn't fun. It's really not. Because now I'm starting to understand things. Starting to see that the life Dez led wasn't as fun and adventure-filled as my stupid pre-teen self thought. There's a lot of pain and hurt buried in there. I wish I never figured that out.

My dad ends up coming back to my room. I hear him leave his, and walk down. He knocks. I'm at that age where knocking is allowed.

"What?"

Dad comes in, not too happy, either. We never really fight. Some kids they scream and slam doors and stuff, but I never did that. Dad and I talk heavily and heated, but it never gets to that point. Probably because he's so calm with me, that there's no trigger. He's a rare kind of parent, that really does listen to your point of view no matter how stupid. I'm glad we don't slam doors and scream. It helps, with communicating.

"Look, I know…I know this is really hard for you right now. But you have to think of how difficult it'll be for Dez, if you tell her."

"I did and she'll be happy."

My dad lights a smoke, and shakes his head. I feel a bit bad for keeping him up, but at the same time I don't.

"Zack...no. No it's not that simple. I know you'd like to think it is, and think all things are easy and quick to solve, but they aren't."

"Why? Why can't they be? I don't see the problem."

"Because you're young. You're young and that's how young people think. Hell when I was your age I was the same way. I can't explain how deep Dez feels things, you won't understand. I can only stress to you that if you tell her, it'll be bad."

"Bad how? She'll run off and go find him, and then they'll be happy and we can all go back to the way things were."

"Again, no. Son you…you didn't see Charon. You were too little to remember how he was in the past, or weren't born, so you'd see no difference. The two of them, kiddo, are changed by this. Dez especially. She'll freak out, and not in a good way. I'm honestly not sure, how she's survived this long."

Dad's right, I don't really understand. I won't tell him that, but I have a feeling he knows anyways. My dad smokes and exhales pale wisps of it into the air. He doesn't stare at me, but at the wall and floors of my room. He cares a lot for Dez. He wants to keep her safe. Like he does me. Wants nothing to hurt us anymore and make everything as happy as happy can possibly be. I want to tell him, that he's not a hero. That he doesn't have to protect me, or Dez. I may not understand things as well or much as he does, but I know one thing. Regardless of how hard you try, of how much you want to, protecting people is only going to hurt them in the end.

I mean, hurt in some way, is going to come to them. I mean, what if my dad dies? I know how to shoot a gun, but I don't know how to survive. Wouldn't it be better, if I run off and learn that now rather than later? And Dez she…she's seen a lot. You know? She's seen everything and things I don't know about and probably don't ever want to. But thing is, she's going to get hurt again. It'll hurt her much more, if she finds out Charon's alive when she's withered and old than if she did now. Because when she's old, even though she'll want to, she won't be able to chase him. There's a chance now. A chance that I can't…miss out on. It may sound stupid and selfish but…having them back in my life, in my dad's life, would make me happy. I know, deep down, it would make my dad happy, too.

"Dad…I have to tell her."

I break the silence and my dad looks at me. This sounds bad, and I feel guilty at night for thinking it, but sometimes I wish I could look at him and see myself. He wasn't a ghoul all the time, there had to have been a point where he was human. We're alike in traits and in personality, but…sometimes, I wish I could see, where I resemble him in features. Being able to say 'That's my dad' and having strangers simply know rather than raise an eyebrow, would be something great. I guess, I'm a bad person for thinking that, aren't I?

Dad sighs and frowns. He puts his cigarette out on the steel doorframe behind him and turns around.

"Come with me."

So I listen. I listen and follow him down the hall. We reach his room, and he opens the door. Looking in, I see Dez. I see her hair, thinner than I remember and longer, spread out over the pillow. Tears flowing from her closed almost black eyes make wet stains on the white fabric. She's thin, and I can see the outline of her once curvaceous body hidden under the white sheet. My dad's right, you know. She is near death, and I wonder…really…if she would have lived much longer if I hadn't found her.

"Dad…she…doesn't have to look like this anymore. It's only because of Charon, she does."

"No son, it isn't."

He closes the door and we go back to my room. Even though I'm sure she could hear us through the walls, it's still some sort of privacy.

"It's not because Charon left her. They were apart for five years in the past, and she came back here looking better than ever. It's not the parting, that does this to her. It's thinking he's dead. That she's the cause of it, not because they're apart."

"More reason then, to tell her."

Why doesn't he just agree with me? Why doesn't he just…see what I see?

"No, let me finish. She's been alone. Dez is with us now, back in her home. In a few weeks, I'm sure she'll be fine. It's the company and having people who care about her around her, that'll fix this mess. As grown as she is, and even though she's older, Dez is still a child. She is needier than you, and will damn well act like it."

"What if she doesn't, though? What if, she gets worse and worse and then…"

I trail off because I don't want to think about losing her again. I'd rather think of her, off wandering the Wasteland with Charon, than her being dead. At least, even if she died wandering, she'd die doing what she loved most, with the man she loved most.

"…Then we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. It's late, Zack. It's late, and I'm tired. Go to sleep. Trust me, when I say it's better she not know, because I'm trusting you to never bring this up again."

Dad doesn't give room for answer. He leaves, closing my bedroom door pretty quietly behind him. I look like a complete fool, standing in my boxers and shirt in the middle of my near-empty bedroom. There's a warm breeze coming in from my open window, and even though it doesn't cool things down, it's a refresher. Dad is misplacing his trust. I don't know when I can tell Dez, because jumping into this wouldn't be the best way, but I will tell her. And I'll tell her soon. After all the lies everyone's told her in her life, the parts I know about, she deserves someone to be honest. She deserves to know, she isn't responsible for anything that's happened, in these five years. I just hope, she can forgive me, too, for keeping this secret from her. And my dad. I hope most of all, she can forgive him.


	15. Nothing I Can Do or Say

(Charon)

I put my Garrote wire back into my pocket. A new addition, for the silence I have come to enjoy. A lifeless body lays in the hard dirt, as I continue my walk away. The wire is useful, but more often than not I find myself using my own hands. I no longer, enjoy touching people. It is too personal, and I have nothing personal to offer anymore. The moon is high, and the night is warm, but I am not tired. Instead, I am driven to separate myself from Megaton. Put as much distance as I can, between me and the woman I once loved. I still love her, love her just the same as I once did, if not more. Because of that love, I cannot bring myself to see her. Cannot put her through the pain, of knowing the truth. I hope, that Gob is wrong. Hope, that there is no more love for me in her heart. I want her to hate me. I want her, to never wish to see me again.

I have become, for lack of a better term, as cold as the moon that lights the invisible path I now walk. My sick idealization of dying with friends and close company is gone now, before I could even dream of having it. Before, I was able to relax and make conversation with a warm glass of whiskey. My words to Gob, were the first words I have spoken, in a long time.

Gob does not understand, who I am now, and why I am doing this. I had not expected him to. People will not see why you do things, until the end. Until some action or event has taken place, and they are able to fully see the bigger picture. A time ago, I was once the happiness in Dez's heart. That much, I could see. A time ago I may not have known myself very well, but I knew what it was, that made her happy. What in turn, made me happy as well. Without her, I am unsure of who or what I have become. Without the company of others, I have become nothing more than a quiet killer, a mercenary in all but trade, and a man in all but name. I do not kill for no reason, I do not harm people, who do not deserve it, and do not steal anything. Simply, I survive on my own, just as everyone else out here does. Only, I am not the person I was before. Not the one, who could match the wit of Dez and no longer the man she can come to for comfort.

It has been, so long since I felt any real emotions that I wonder if I will ever feel them again. I do not want to, anyways. Even though at night, when it is cold, dark and I feel a twinge of loneliness, I escape to memories of the past, I forget what the touch of a woman feels like. No, nothing in the sexual way. Simply thinking of the act of sex now brings slight repulsion and a shudder. Rather, instead the kind of touch only a woman can bring you. I have forgotten, the softness of Dez's fingers, how comfortable I felt with my head against her breast, and how a simple look was able to deter my every thought and worry. A touch, only a woman can give a man.

Then again, perhaps I am wrong. Perhaps, in the case of becoming the emotionless being I so rightfully am, I am wrong. What else then, would it be that causes me to walk away? If I truly have become cold and heartless, then would I not have simply stayed? Would I not, have only thought of what I went to Megaton to do, and nothing more? And…would I have not been so driven with desire to see her, that wildly ran from Gob's office, to see just a glimpse of her ankle? Rubbing my eyes, I look around. Maybe, I have only been this isolated and cold, because it is all I know how to be when I am alone. Maybe, the impact of incidents taking place five years ago, runs deeper than I have ever thought.

Knowing, for that time I was at Gob's, that she was also there, was a weight and an oxymoron I never want to feel again. Old desires, rose up from within, while the logical side of myself cancelled them out. I wanted to see her, so desperately. Wanted nothing so much before in my life, than to just look at her. Although, if I did see her and she saw me, I know it would not be a happy reunion. What stops me from this, from giving this reunion to her, is knowing I am no longer the man she fell in love with. No longer, the man she came to and loved and doted on in her own ways, and the man who stood by her side unrelenting for years. These arms, that she so often sought comfort in, can no longer offer any more, than the strangulation wire I hold.

Even if, Dez received my appearance in open arms and love, I would not be able to do the same to her. Five years have passed since then, and people change. How foolish would it be of me, to hold on to a dead romance? I am tortured enough by the memory of a woman I will never embrace again, and cannot fool myself with pipe dreams. The thought and image of us, growing older together, is gone just as the dust that blows around my ankles is gone.

She is the Lone Wanderer, and although she never accepted it in the past, it was simply bound to be. I myself, never accepted my place. Never wanted to, once Dez barged her way into my life with no invitation. For the first time, I felt normal, and human. That I was not simply created for the use of others and that my fate was determined by people holding a paper with my name on it. I wanted that image, that light, that normalcy, to be myself. To be the thing I was meant to be. But yet it was not. I see now, what I am. Like her, I am fated to be alone. Fated to do nothing but serve myself now, but still, a slave to something.

Stopping, I look around at my surroundings. Stars, millions, billions of them amongst the full moon. A breeze picks up, and I stand alone on the flat ground of the barren Capital Wasteland. In the far distance east, I see the Washington Monument. I look at everything, as if I am seeing it for the first time. Megaton, which is obscured by distance and un-seeable in the dark, resides a few hours walk away. Dez, was possibly the only thing I liked about myself. In this world, where there is nothing to rely on, where there is no trust, and such things as faith is as lost as a fragment of glass in a weathered building, I found something going against all of that. Without her, I am unsure now, and have been, of who I am.

Maybe it is best this way. Maybe, I am never meant to find myself, and the things I have come to accept as myself, were nothing more than what the people around me wanted me to be. After all, have I not done just that my entire life? Acted as I was told, been who my employers, trainers and teachers wanted me to be? Then, what would stop me from picking up on what those around me needed and wanted, and becoming just that? There are so many questions and theories, that it gives me a headache. Shaking my head, I sigh, with nothing else to do but think and walk.

As I turn my back on the Monument, I keep my head slightly down, as to prevent dust from getting in my eyes. If…I had been something for Dez, and not myself, then why do I miss her so greatly? Why, after all these silent years, is she the first thing I have conversation about? I should have found myself on this journey. Anyone, in movies or books, would have done just that and rushed to the side of their loved one a better and changed man. Yet, I cannot. I still care for her, and that love and affection that still resides deep below in my cold heart, prevents me. Most of Dez's emotional pain, was brought on by myself. Perhaps, I love her enough, to know it is better this way. Better, to leave well enough alone, and simply wish her happiness. I know, if I return, I will only hurt her more. Hurt her, because she will know I am no longer the Charon she once knew. At least, if she believes me to be dead, she can still think of me as I once was. Meeting me after all this time, will shatter those delusions. I do not know, if my memory comforts her as hers comforts me, and I do not care to know. I just take faith, in knowing at least, she at one time was happy with me.

As I glance up at the night sky, I see a shooting star. I have seen so many of them, in my time outside, and generally in the Capital Wasteland, that I do not care for them anymore. But yet, seeing this one trail and blaze over the cloudless night sky, I feel it is different. Walking, I fight the urge to turn back. To run back to Megaton, break into Gob's home, and reunite myself with Dez. I have been so emotionless, for so long, and it is so easy for me to be, that I find myself denying emotions as they are coming back to me. The only thing, I can do to save Dez one last time, to save Gob and Zack from all the potential emotional pain that seemingly comes with associating with me, is to walk. Walk away from it all, and never, ever look back again. Even though…I want nothing more, than to see her face just one more time.


	16. Shake Me, Cuz I Must be Sleeping

(Dez)

I don't have a hangover. My head is sore, but it doesn't hurt. When I open my eyes, it takes me a little bit to remember where I am and what happened. I don't remember coming into his room, but I'm dressed so I'm guessing I didn't do the dirty with him. Kicking off the white sheets, I try my best not to wake Gob. My Pip-Boy says it's close to four in the morning. Everyone is still sleeping, and I don't want to be the nuisance that wakes them up.

Tip-toeing out the door and past Zack's room, I make my way down the steps. There's a small room to the right at the bottom of the stairs that Moria usually kept blocked off. Gob uses it as a kitchen, apparently. I never knew he cooked, but instead of trying to eat whatever scientific experiment Gob has resting in his fridge, I opt for a box of Sugar Bombs on the shelf. I can't tell you, how long it's been since I've had the pleasure of eating Sugar Bombs. Call me crazy but, in my five years of solitude, I've really stopped allowing myself simple pleasures in life. Aside from smoking, there isn't much I've done that makes me smile. In it's own twisted way, I guess it was sort of me punishing myself for doing what I did to Charon.

As I dip my hand into the box and bring the sugary sweetness to my mouth, I remember my conversation with Zack. All that I told him, was true. I'm sure one day someone will ask me if I regret it. If I regret killing Charon, and living this way. I'll tell them 'no'. It's not really a regret, I don't think. Of course I feel horrible, for what I did and what the outcome was, but in my mind, it was the noble thing to do. It's exactly what I told Zack. That I'd rather live alone and miserable with this burden, than have Charon dealing with the same pain and torment. I'd rather, do it, than make him. Sick, isn't it? Love is sick, though, and I'm still very much in love with Charon. Even if…even if he isn't here to love me back.

Maybe today, I'll watch the sunrise. It's hard to see the sun rising, behind the walls of Megaton, so maybe I'll venture out. After all, it's been so long since I've been home. Seeing the sun rising over the Capital Wasteland, as I did so often in the past, might be something good for me. Might prove to be the new life I need. But, in reality, I don't want a new life. I want the old one back. I got over the past a long time ago, but no matter how far forward you move, your past is what molds and makes you. No one, can understand my situation, unless they themselves loved and lost as I did. I don't even…have a recording of his voice, or a picture of him to look at. All I have, are the memories in my mind.

Looking out the window, and into the dimness outside in Megaton, I sigh. Setting down the half-empty box of Sugar Bombs, I wonder if living here is the best option to me. It's great and wonderful to see Gob and Zack again, don't get me wrong but…is it really for the best? Won't I just in the end, end up hurting them again? What if I leave, and wind up dead somehow? I wish, really, they left well enough alone and moved on with their lives. Mine was ending anyways. I was going to end it, but then they showed up. They showed up and threw a wrench right in my plans and…and now I don't know what to do with myself. There's no way, I can just live and enjoy life. I know that's probably what Charon wants, but…in my heart I think that's a big slap in the face to him. A big 'fuck you' to his memory. I don't know. Maybe I just need to give this a few days.

"Dez?"

I stopped jumping at soft and strange voices a long time ago. Nothing really scares me anymore. Turning my head, I see Zack standing in the doorway. He looks like a scared and nervous little boy. I remind myself, he is.

"What're you doing up so early?"

"I…couldn't sleep."

He tells me, running hands through his thick hair. As much as he looks like Nova, Zack is Gob. His mannerisms and personality, are all Gob. Well, with a bit of Nova, too. It makes me wonder, what the child Charon and I wanted to have together would have looked like. Nervously, Zack comes over to me and sits on the floor. Grabbing a pack of cigarettes I see laying on a shelf, I take one and light it.

"What's on your mind?"

Remembering myself at sixteen, I know that when they can't sleep, it's usually because of a problem. Anyways, I think that's it.

"Dez…have you ever known something…and it was an important something, but you couldn't say it because…it might really hurt the person? But you really wanted to say it, because it could also make the person happy?"

"What's her name?"

"What?"

"The girl you're loving. What's her name?"

Zack frowns, not even trying to smile, and shakes his head.

"No, no there's no girl. I don't have time for girls and even if I did, there's none here for me."

"Maybe we need to find you one then. Think your dad will let you come with me on a Wasteland excursion one of these days?"

Promising something I might not intend to keep, isn't good. It'll fill Zack with a false hope. But maybe, in the end, it's not so bad. False hope is still hope, right?

"Maybe. I don't know, you'd have to ask him."

"I will when the sun comes up. Want to watch it with me?"

"How? We're walled in. Megaton has walls, I mean."

Exhaling smoke I nod my head and lean against the wall. It's a few hours before the sun comes up, and I wonder what we'll do until then. If I'm lucky, I'll fall back asleep and wake up refreshed. Haven't woken up like that in a long, long time.

"Yeah I know that. We can watch it outside of Megaton."

"And my dad?"

"Don't worry about him. He's a wet blanket I'll dry him out."

Zack gets a chuckle at that, and I look at him. He's still nervous, with his eyes darting around and his hands fidgeting. Sliding down the wall, I sit on the floor across from him. He can't keep eye contact. Maybe this thing that's bothering him is serious.

"So tell me what's wrong. You seem really distracted about it."

"I am. I am because…I don't know if I should tell them or not. I don't know…if it's the right thing to do."

Zack's having one of those moral dilemmas. We've all been there, and not handled them too well. There is no real, good and decent way to handle those things, though. He's too young to know that yet, and hasn't made enough mistakes to learn it.

"Sometimes, there's no good option. You just have to do what you feel is right, and live with whatever consequences may come."

"Is that how you do it?"

"Yeah but I'm not really a good example of morality and wise choices."

I flick some ash from my cigarette and stare at the flame for a minute. Then I look back to Zack, who has this look of defeat on his face.

"…You are, though. You did, everything you thought was right and even what you thought was wrong. Either way, you had the strength to."

This is more serious than I thought. Leaning in closer to him, I put a hand on his knee. There's tears in his eyes, and I wonder what in this world could be upsetting him so much. Whatever it is, I want to find it, and fix it, and protect him from it. There's no need, for him to feel this way at such a young age.

"Zack, talk to me. What is it?"

He takes a deep breath in, before letting his eyes meet mine. I see him open his mouth, but the strength to find the words escapes him. Instead of talking or telling, Zack shakes his head at me, and looks away.

"Alright. Well, how about we play the guessing game? You nod you're head 'yes' or 'no' while I try and guess what this is about. Sound good?"

Zack nods, and I take that as my first answer.

"Right. So, does it have anything to do with you?"

He shakes his hand in the air, a maybe. Then, he shakes his head back and forth, so I determine that to not only be confusing, but getting nowhere. Not thinking much of it, I move on.

"Is it about your dad?"

Another unsure response. He shrugs his shoulders, and I take a drag from my cigarette. We're going to be here for a while.

"Me?"

A solid nod. Alright, Zack's problem lies with me. I hope he's not about to confess some strange and twisted feelings of love for me, because that would make all my problems worse and this entire conversation and staying here awkward.

"Okay. So there's a problem with me, and maybe your dad, am I right?"

He nods, and I sigh.

"Are you scared your dad will fall hopelessly in love with me and you're scared he'll forget your mom?"

Zack gives a smirk, but shakes his head. At least I still have some form of wit, to make the kid smile. But I don't know what else to ask next. I suppose I can take shots in the dark now.

"Does it have anything to do with me coming back here?"

Another 'no'. Hm. I'm not getting anywhere, and I'm not a real patient person. But I'm trying to be. With teenagers, you have to coax everything out of them. Asking blunt and forcefully won't get you anywhere.

"It has something to do with Charon."

Zack blurts out, but still doesn't look at me. Charon? What does he mean? There's nothing…I can think of that would create a problem this bad in Zack, about Charon. I mean, Charon is dead and not to sound heartless but, dead men can't cause problems. Raising an eyebrow but keeping my growing curiosity under wraps, I smoke more of my cigarette and stare at Zack.

"It does? Alright. So it's about me, Charon and Gob. Is…is it something that happened in the past?"

"No."

Alright so we're on speaking terms now. I can tell by the sound of his voice, Zack isn't really doing a good job at being patient. It's like he wants to yell out this issue, but can't seem to figure out how.

"Zack, listen I don't know where to go with this guessing game. I don't know what's bothering you, and I can't sit here all day."

Zack gets mad, as I thought he would, and shakes his head. He lets out a frustrated groan, and hides his head in his arms. What is it? I want him to just tell me, so I can fix this. I figure whatever problem he has about Charon, can be fixed with a simple answer. Putting my cigarette out, I stare at him in silence. He still hides his head from me, and he's curled up into a small little ball.

"My dad told me not to tell you, because he was worried about how you'd react."

His voice is so muffled I have to think about his sentence for a bit. Wait, tell me what? And what am I going to react to? There's hardly anything these days, that can put a reaction in me into action.

"What is it?"

"I can't _tell_ you!"

Zack sobs out his frustration, and I sigh. Feeling helpless in these kinds of situations, isn't the best way to feel. I watch him, as he sobs into his hands. I can't say I can relate. When I was younger, nothing ever bothered me so much, that I couldn't speak it. Things like that happened only after I got out of the vault, when I was nineteen. When I was sixteen, the same age as Zack is now, I didn't care enough. I mean, I hurt but…I wasn't very emotionally in-tune. I wish I was, though, because maybe then I'd be able to help him more.

"Zack, listen…it's alright. Whatever is bothering you, it's alright. We can fix it."

He shakes his head, his face wet with tears.

"No…we…can't…"

I rub his head. I'm not sure if it does any good but, at least it's an attempt. The motherly instincts I never got to use kick in, and I wrap my arms around his shoulders. With my body, I protect him, as I hold him. Protect him from all the unseen dangers of the world, protect him from the bad guys, and the demons in his head. I wish, I could always protect him.

He presses his head into my chest, and cries rivers. He holds me, like any upset child would hold an adult. When he was younger, and upset, he'd come to me for comfort. He'd come to me, to pick him up and offer soothing words of comfort. I protected him then, too. When he saw me kill Raiders, even though his little boy mind liked it, I protected him from it. I told him I'd do it to him, if I ever found him playing with guns unsupervised, or if he wandered too far off. It was one of my biggest fears back then, you know. Even bigger than losing Charon, I was more scared of losing Zack. He means a lot to me, he meant a lot to Charon. He's Gob's last hope and view of Nova, and Zack is more important to everyone than he knows.

"I w-w-want t-t-to tell y-y-ou…"

"You can tell me anything. I promise, whatever it is, I won't be mad. And you'll feel better."

"Dad w-w-will be m-m-ad…"

"Let me deal with that."

Zack shakes his head, stubborn just like his mother. To my surprise, Zack looks up at me, his face stained with tears and lost hope. He still has that innocence, though. Still has, that sense of childish lore and adventure. Please, Zack, don't ever let that go.

"…If I tell you…will you promise…to not be mad at me?"

"Of course."

He pulls away from me. The both of us stand up, and I'm half-distracted by my wet shirt. Zack paces around the room, while I wait patiently for him to tell me this big news. He's calmed down, which really isn't unusual to me. Teenagers and their moods fluctuate. I hope he stays this calm though, because it'll be really hard to comfort him and keep patience.

"You can't freak out."

I look at him and raise an eyebrow. What do I have to freak out about? Sure, I just spent five years in basic solitude and my past has come to whisk me back home and my best ghoul friend and his son are housing me in the same town that hated me but hey, I'm calm.

"I'm not going to freak out."

I can see the fright on his face, the nerves and all the other things that come with being afraid to tell someone something. Zack's eyes meet mine, and he clasps his hands together. His nervous ticks annoy me a bit, but I remind myself I am no longer nineteen, but in my thirties, and should be patient rather than demanding. Especially with kids. Especially with Zack.

"…I think…I should wait until my dad wakes up to tell you. Because…maybe it'll be easier."

"Why? Doesn't your dad not want me to know this mysterious mystery of secrecy?"

"At least then if you freak out, he'll be awake."

"I'm not going to freak out. Look, as curious as I am, I can wait. You don't have to tell me until you're ready."

"But he'll be gone by then!"

I narrow my eyes at Zack, and take a step closer. Suddenly, I get the feeling this is more serious than I initially thought. Zack tucks himself against the wall, near the window, and his eyes nervously dart around the room. I pick my tone carefully, with ideas and thoughts of what this could be floating in my mind.

"Zack…who will be gone?"

Tears stream down his cheeks, and he starts to shake.

"…Charon…"

I don't know what I'm feeling right now. Anger, rage, a bit of sadness and a lot of confusion. Plus a side dish of betrayal.

"Zack, it's not funny to joke about something like that. If this is some kind of teenage joke, it's not making me laugh."

There's caution and warning in my voice as Zack keeps the river of tears flowing. What sick and twisted game is he playing? Bringing up something…something as sensitive as Charon in this kind of mood isn't funny to me at all. What's he getting out of this? Zack wasn't ever the kind to joke about serious matters, but then again, it's been five years. He might have changed since then. Still, change or not, it doesn't justify bringing up Charon as if he…as if he's still around.

"Zack? Are you listening to me?"

"If you leave now you can catch him! If you go really fast, you can find him! You have to go! You have to try!"

Zack's yelling by now, but his message isn't getting across. All it's doing is infuriating me more and more.

"Charon is _dead_, Zack! He's dead and I killed him! Are you happy to hear it? Snap out of this!"

I grab his shoulders and look him in the eyes. He still has tears in them, and he looks at me. Not with fear, but with…with this childhood sense of…hope. As if…as if almost, he's dreaming of his past. Like, it's so close to him, he can almost touch it.

"No he's not! He's not! Dad lied! He _lied_ I heard them!"

"I killed him! I saw him! There's no way he's alive so _stop it right now_!"

I shove him into the wall, feeling my own tears running down my cheeks. The sound of our heavy breathing feels the room, as both of us feel emotions too intense to describe. I never thought, I could look at Zack and feel such anger. Now, I know that isn't true. The only thing stopping me from giving him a well-needed slap in the face, is the fact that he is Gob's son, and that at one time, Zack cared about me as if I was his own mother. I could never, raise a hand to a child, I once wanted as my own. How…how dare he lie to me. How dare he tell me, that Charon still walks this earth. I saw it, I was there, it was me who did it all. Me. I raised the knife, I plunged it in, I watched the life drain from his eyes and his body fall to the floor. There's no other way, no possible and logical outcome that would make Charon somehow alive again. Even though…I wish there were.

"Dez…he…he is. I heard…him and dad talking…outside my window. He came here. He's been talking to dad. They've been sending letters. Dez, I know it was him."

"Where the fuck do kids come up with this shit? First Santa then the Boogeyman now a dead man walking?"

"It's _true_! Why won't you believe me?"

"Because I saw him die with my own eyes, Zack. Because if he were alive, I'm sure he wouldn't have left me alone for all this time. Charon was never the type, to leave me alone."

"But he _did_! Go ask dad! Go wake him up and ask him! You have to hurry or you're going to lose him again and I don't know where he's going!"

I can see somehow, that Zack truly believes this. I can't suggest he was dreaming, because if he won't believe I saw Charon die with my own eyes, what makes me think he'll believe that? As hurt as I am right now, as betrayed and angry as I'm feeling, I know it's best to humor him. Humor, and make sure Gob deals with this in the way it's meant to be dealt with. Zack isn't my son to discipline, but if he was, he's going the right way for a smart bottom.

"Fine. Let's go."

I pry open the door and lead the way up the steps. My feet hit the steel with anger, making them crash against my bare feet loudly. It's hard to contain this much emotion, especially when the cause of it is just a few inches behind you. If Zack was anyone else, he would have been beaten near death. But I have to remind myself, who he is, and what he means to me. I have to have patience, because they've had patience with me.

At Gob's door, I take another look at Zack. He's wiping the tears off of his face with the backs of his hands. With each throb of my heart, I feel a twinge of pain rush through my veins. This is why I kept alone for five years. Why I never wanted to talk to anyone. Because at least the pain I make myself feel, I bearable. The pain that others create inside of me for me, is near unbearable.

"You know you're dad is going to flip."

Zack nods as I give him one last shot to redeem himself. My voice is shaking with anger, but I keep it steady.

"Yeah but not for me lying."

Alright, fair enough. Opening Gob's door I step in and walk over to his sleeping body. The bed beside him is messy, because I'm not under the covers to smooth them out. Zack turns on a light, and I blink as it floods the room. Gob mumbles something, and rolls over on his side. Reaching over, I place a hand on his shoulder.

"Gob?"

I say, shaking him. He shifts a bit, but doesn't wake. I try again.

"Hey! Wake up!"

This time I'm a bit more forceful. It works, and Gob's awake and rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Jesus fuck what the hell?"

Pulling away from him, I stand between the two of them. Gob sits up, confused and half-asleep. Folding my arms over my chest, I can feel my heart beating through my shirt as I wait for Gob to get his bearings. When he does, he looks at me, then at Zack. What crosses his face is momentary anger, then I can see his muscles forcing him to relax.

"What the hell is this about? Zack, what are you doing awake?"

"Gob, your son is spitting lies about Charon."  
"Huh?"

Looking back at Zack, I give him a smug smile. How old am I again? Twelve?

"He doesn't know anything, Zack. I suggest you stop with this now, and get back to bed. It's not polite to make fun of dead people, and their living loved ones."

"I'm not lying! Dad, I told her. I told her, about Charon. If she leaves now…dad…dad it can go back. It can all go back."

I look back at Gob, and nearly fall on the floor. His face is contorted in confusion, shock, and anger. Flipping the covers from the bed, he stands up. I'm lost in the middle of this, and I feel my body start to shake.

"Gob?"

My voice comes out meek. I have no reason right now, to be feeling this way, but I am. The way Gob is standing, the look he's giving Zack, and the muffled sniffles of Zack's cries put my body into overdrive. Instantly, my mind gives ten million possible answers to this one moment. I don't know really, what to make of this confusion.

"…I told you to keep your goddamned mouth shut."

That one sentence, causes me to sit on the bed in sheer shock. What's going on? Both of them look at me, and I don't know what to think.

"Gob? Gob, what's going on? What the hell is he saying? What are _you_ saying?"

Gob shakes his head as he stands in his boxers and white shirt. He can't keep eye contact with me, for very long. He looks away, at the floor as if he's in shame.

"I wasn't going to tell you. Shit…Dez, it wasn't because I wanted to keep it from you."

"What?"

"But then…fuck...kid listen I didn't mean to bring you back here for this."

"For _what_, Gob?"

"…Charon ain't dead, kid. He asked me…to not tell you."

I don't know, really, what happens next. I just know all these things come at me like a ton of bricks. It hurts, too. Next thing I know my fist hurts and Gob is nursing a swelling cheek while Zack tries pitifully to restrain me. I know I'm screaming, but I can't hear myself. I can't hear anything. It's like I'm under water. Like everything, is under water. The motions, the words, the movements and cries. I don't know what to think of all of this, and I don't really know if I'm registering it. All I do know, is that I'm hurting in a way I never really hurt before.


	17. Love is the Light That Will Guide You

When I finally calm down, or really, as calm as someone can be after hearing this, Gob is able to tell me what the truth is. I only hear snippets of it, though. Hear a few words of every sentence. My mind, isn't focusing on his story. It's focusing on my own story. On how…how I spent five years, believing that I did this. Believing, that I killed the only man I ever loved, the only person who loved me just as much in return, and the only person I ever felt like I belonged with. Now, at near sunrise on my second day back in the Capital Wasteland after five years, I find out it's not true. That none of what I've been blaming myself for, is true.

How does one react to this? To this news? I don't know, and I can't give a description on how I'm absorbing all of it. I guess I'm in shock. Shock, because he's _alive_. Do I rejoice about it? A part of me says to. A part of me, says to leap and jump and cry tears of joy yet…yet another part says not to. It tells me, to be angry and sad. That for five years, I was allowed to believe I committed one of the worst acts in humanity, and no one told me otherwise. Even though, it seems, they all knew. And not only that, but the man I committed the act against, never once came to seek me out. Even still, he refused to see me. I think…I think that's what hurts most, really. Above all else in illogical and unbelievable situation, it hurts that Charon didn't want to see me. Didn't want…to fix the past, and begin a future.

"…If you go now, Zack's right, you can catch him."

I tune in at that sentence right there. Bleary-eyed, I look up at Gob. Zack's been sent to his room, and Gob's cheek is turning a nasty purple. I shouldn't have hit him, but I didn't know what I was doing. I was, am, so angry. Gob stares at me, before crouching down to eye-level. I'm still sitting on his bed in his room, but I'm still in shock. I don't know anymore, what to do. I don't know, what I want to do. It sounds horrible, doesn't it?

For five years, I've wished this. Wished to hear news of Charon's survival and yet, when I receive it, I don't know what to do. I look into Gob's eyes, like I'm searching for answers. I am, if you want the truth. I want to know, what it is I do now. Do I go off, and find Charon? Do I beg him to begin anew with me, or is this chapter of our lives together over? Should I stay here, and accept his choice to leave me, accept he believed it to be better? What I should really ask myself…is do I still believe in love, as much as I once did?

"Kid?"

Gob rubs my knee, and I blink. I come into focus with the world, and shake my head. My hair, hangs limply on either side of my face. I haven't shot a gun, in five years. It's like riding a bike, you never forget. Question is, do you really want to get on that bike and ride it again and again? In my head, my mind, I play Beethoven's _Moonlight Sonata_. I'd play it, on the old piano I had up at the old house down by the shore. It was the only thing I ever bought, aside from the house and cigarette and stale food, in five years. I'd play my heart out on that ting. My heart, my soul, memories, emotions and feelings, would be sent away and carried off by the wind. No one complained of the noise, not once. Instead, they would come to their windows, and watch me. I could see them, when I lifted my head from playing. They'd watch me, until my fingers ached, until my face was slick with wet tears. Until, there was nothing left in me, to urge me to keep playing.

My mind, my world of music is interrupted. Gob says my name, but that's not what jerks me. What does, is the slow and melodic memory, of Charon. I see it all before me, an old and weathered movie on play. There's the time we first met, times we laughed, times I cried, and times we fought. Each memory, plays to our special song. The one, he wrote for me, in a smoke-filled living room I once called my house. I hear my heart beating, as if it's the mind's own metronome, and know inside, what I have to do. Looking around, I realize it all. Realize, that although I changed so many people's lives, Charon changed mine. Charon, helped me change those people's lives, for better or worse doesn't matter. After all these years, he can still move in me. He can still, light up the room for me, when it seems so dark. And based on that, and that alone, I know.

Our story isn't over. At least, it can't be. If there is a god, if there is anything, and if I've learned anything, it's that sometimes, people just have to do things. They just have, to follow an urge and a voice. They have to, even if they don't know where it's taking them, or what it means. Whether it'll be good or bad in the end, doesn't matter. They just have to. The love Charon and I once shared will play a part in this, but not as much, as the love I have for him now, does. I'm the only one in this world, who can remotely understand. Understand, and know, what it is he's going through.

He's emotionally unstable. The definition of neurotic, Charon is only falling into the patters of life he's most comfortable with. The pattern, to find a mission, a cause, and kill whomever stands in the way, while protecting whatever it is he sees fit to protect. Without anyone around him, without any change in emotional pace or events, Charon will simply revert back to what he once was. I can only imagine, now, what he's capable. If I loved him at all, if I ever told myself I'd do anything for him, it's now I need to prove it. It's now, he needs me. This time, this isn't about me. It's about him, and just as he's always been there for me, I have to return the favor.

"…I need a gun, and I need an outfit."

Gob hugs me, more relieved I'm not angry than anything else. I can't tell him I'm infuriated at him, but I can say that my anger can be released later. Right now, there are more important matters at hand.

"I have all of that. Wait here."

He leaves me alone in his room. I stand up, and watch him vanish. Alone in this empty room, I begin to think and reflect. I'm venturing blindly into the Wasteland once more. This time, to seek out the man I love. The man, I believed to be dead. The man I thought I killed. I stare down at my hands, and wonder what they would look like, if the bloodstains on them were visible. To my left, is a bare window. I stare out at it, at the blackened homes of Megaton against a soon-to-be-rising sun. No one there, has any idea. Has any clue as to what it takes, to be me. They don't know, what it takes to do these things. The emotional strength, the physical endurance, that I need in order to just wake up in the morning. At least, I can take comfort in one thing. My dreams, they aren't as vast and empty, as my conscience is.

"…Are you leaving?"

Zack's voice comes from the open doorway. I look over to see him standing, his head hanging down, staring at his feet.

"Yeah…I am. But I'll be back before anyone even notices I'm gone."

"Will you come back with Charon?"

"…I don't know. It depends."

"On what?"

"Many things. If I can find him, if he wants to come back, if…if there's a chance for us to start where we left off."

Zack picks his head up and looks at me. There's so many questions held on his face, it almost makes me smile. But I don't.

"Why wouldn't he want to come back? He loves you. He should."

"You're too young to understand. Sometimes…love isn't enough. Sometimes there's other forces and reasons that causes people to do things."

"That's stupid no there isn't."

"Don't be a brat right now. This is hard for me, I…I'm doing this on a whim."

Zack's silent, and I hear Gob shuffling around downstairs. Soon I can hear his footsteps coming up the stairs, and I wait, itching with renewed anticipation, for the wanderer inside of me.

"Do you know where he went?"

I ask Zack as Gob comes through the door. Zack moves aside, and I see a folded pile of clothes, and a sawed-off shotgun on top. Gob remembers. Gob, never forgets.

"No. I don't know I mean, dad might, but I don't."

"My guess is as good as his. Charon told me, he came here to rest. I'm not sure where else he would do that."

"I know."

I tell Gob and Zack as I take the pile from Gob's hands. Unfolding the clothes, I notice it's an armored Vault 101 jumpsuit. I smirk at it, as I unzip the front.

"Figured you'd feel a bit more at home with this one. There's others though, if you don't like it."

"It's perfect."  
Gob ushers Zack out of the room while I change. I've had this armor for five years, it's time for a new set. Gob has his back to me, as he stares at the wall while I change. He lights a cigarette, and the swishy feel of the suit's fabric feels familiar on my skin.

"Where do you think he's going?"

Gob asks just as I finish zipping the suit up. He turns around to look at me, and a look of nostalgia washes over him. I give a small smile, as I pick up the sawed-off.

"Underworld. Or, what's left of it. Charon…likes to be in places that give him a purpose. That's the only place I know of, still surviving."

"And if he's not there?"

"I haven't figured that out yet."

There's shells in the gun and I clip it to my waist. Grabbing Charon's combat knife from the nightstand where I drunkenly left it, I clip it on my left side. I want…to use this knife more than I use my gun. I know it'll get me hurt, a lot more than using the gun would, but I owe it to Charon. I have to show him, that he's needed and his purpose, if nothing else, is with me. I'm not sure how the knife being used is supposed to show that. It's just another thing I haven't figured out.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye."

I say to Gob, who looks at me with the same light as he did when I first walked into Megaton. It feels like such a long time ago, when I think back to it now. You know, I thought by now I'd be sick of wandering and traveling. But, truthfully, without a child or reason not to, it's a rare thing that makes me utterly happy. I don't want to give it up, but I did, for five years. It's okay now, to go back to it. Now, that I know Charon is alive. It feels like he's running my life. Like my life has only purpose with him in it. But, that's not the case. I'm independent as far as I can tell but, I want to be independent with him. I guess, only people like us who fall in love with each other, can notice the difference between me and an obsessive girlfriend.

"It's more like 'see you later'. After all, kid, goodbyes with us never really last."

I smirk as I hug Gob. Although, I'm torn up inside and angry, he's still my friend. Maybe it wasn't his first intent, to bring me here and have some sort of reunion with Charon and I. Maybe, he did just miss me. Either way, I can't think of any other friends in the world, who would do these things for their friends. Who would still, after five years chase after them and welcome them into their house and home, and not be offended when life takes a turn and someone has to go. As I hug him, I soak in his scent. He smells just like Gob.

"I'll be back before you know it."

"Get movin', kid. Before I change my mind in fear of the ass-whopping Charon's gonna give me for opening my mouth."

Parting, I look at Gob and smirk.

"You need to worry first about the one I'm going to give you when I get back."

It's easy to pretend, you know. Pretend none of this bothers me as much as it really does. I only pretend though, for everyone else. Charon needs me right now, and it would be selfish of me to spend time here lulling over this news and making an emotional scene out of it. Rather, a bigger scene than I already pulled. I know now, there's a time and place to throw a fit. This is my life, you know. It's always been like this, even though now it's not what it was before. I've always had news, good or bad, thrown at me, blindsided. I've gotten use to hearing it, but the emotions that come with said news, can never be easy to adjust to.

I smile at Gob as I leave his room. For the first time in five years, I feel like I can face the day. Between you and me, I don't feel ashamed to be myself anymore. I don't feel, that sense of dread and horrible sadness. I owe that…I owe it all, to Charon. To him, for defying the odds, and being alive even when I didn't know the wiser. When I see him, I need to thank him, for giving me my life back. Then, properly beat the piss out of him for letting me believe he was dead. I can be content with this news, but it doesn't mean I'm not upset or angry with it. It's just, now, I deal with things in a slightly different manner. If I'm sleeping, if I was sleeping, please don't wake me. Please, don't. Let me dream this dream, and let me think, my life has a light at the end of the tunnel. It's been so dark, for such a long time. Having some light, no matter how dim and flickering it may be, is a miracle.

"Zack?"

I call out from behind his closed door. Inside his room, he shuffles. I can hear him, and hear his socked feet walk across the steel flooring. Opening the door wide, he looks at me.

"…You…you're going to be alright, right?"

Nodding, I give a small smile.

"I'll come back alive. I promise."

"When you…when you come back, can things go back to the way they were? You know, like when I was younger?"

"I'll try my best to make that happen for you."

"So you have to get Uncle Charon back, okay?"

"I'll try, but if I can't, you have to accept that."

His face turns a bit red, and I know he doesn't want to. Doesn't want to accept the fact that his life may never return to the way it was. I don't have the heart to tell him, that it won't ever will. That he's wasting time, on wishful thinking. I want him to believe in anything, with his entire heart, for his whole life. That innocence he has, is something I wish I kept with me. Something, I wish I didn't push away and ruin. It's why I can't tell Zack, that there's a higher chance of me coming back alone, than there is returning with Charon.

"See you in a few weeks, I suppose. Take care of your dad, dry him out for me."

Zack smiles and gives me a big hug. Both of them see me out the door, but I don't let them walk me to the gate. Before, yeah sure I'd squeeze every second out of their company if I could, but right now, I have to be alone. I have, to do this alone even though I could tell Zack wanted me to invite him to come. No, not on this mission. Pushing through the gates, my breath is taken away by the sight.

As many years as I've been here, in this world, the pure sight of the skyline at sunrise never gets old. I grew up, with metal walls and ceilings all around me. With heat lamps for suns, and artificial everything. Right now, if you could see what I'm seeing, it'd take your breath away too. Over the barren Wasteland, with the old highway passes and buildings of the city silhouetted in the distance, the sun begins to rise. The sky, a purple pink shade, with a giant ball of orange fire coming up every so slowly. A warm breeze flows, taking small puffs of clouds traveling across the last of the brightest stars still shining. I take in a deep breath, smelling traces of radiation, smelling the dust, and taking it all in.

I take my first step onwards. My first step, into my new life. My hair blows gently with the breeze, my face feels small pebbles of dust brushing against it, and I'm reminded why I walked this land so much. Why, I could never sit still for too long. The beauty this place holds, no matter how many times you've seen it, or how many miles around it you've walked, is always magnificent.

Mulling everything over as I walk, I can't help, but smile. As painful as it is to know he's alive, at the same time, it's refreshing. It's beautiful, full of hope, and that overpowers any blackness no matter how small the optimism is. Once, forever ago, it snowed here. Looking around, I see how alive and well this place is. Lights, twinkle from the city as the sun has yet to provide the guidance of the day. I'm alone, but I feel him beside me. I feel him, all around me. I can almost smell him, as if forces beyond my control are pushing me towards me. As if, I'm guided by nothing more, than love. Than the one thing, that is so beautiful, that is so ugly, that causes wars and ends wars. It's the biggest oxymoron in the world, but it is one I'm proud to be a part of.

The leafless trees mark a path I've taken. There's wild animals, that never bothered me. I hear the cries of waking Raiders, and junkies that have been up all night. But, I'm not alone. I'm not alone, as I silently walk with a small smile placed on my face. A sign says 'Dead End' as if it were placed there for travelers. It's from a world, I'm glad I didn't see. If I had seen it, I would never have had the opportunity to live in this one. As the sun rises higher, it brightens my face, warming it like gentle kisses. I stare up and see the last star of the night, shining down bright on me. I'm not following this last star, even though it's in my direct path and area of vision. Instead, I'm being guided, by love, and by the last traces, of the scent Charon left behind.

I know it sounds crazy, but, it's not. Women, have a much keener smell than men. There's a whole science as to how it works, and why that is, but I don't want to get into that. Just trust me, when I say it. I can smell him, like I've always smelt him. At night, huddled together, in the heat of battle, and in our most intimate moments, I've always smelt him. I can smell him now. Even if it is, a trick of my mind. Even if I'm just thinking I can, because of the excitement slowly creeping up on me, it's a comfort. With each burst of wind, with each flare up of dust, I can feel him everywhere around me.

Charon won me over, so many years ago, in no time at all. He didn't even try, wasn't even trying, just doing his job. I guess looking back, it was sort of foolish to be falling for someone so fast. But, I don't regret it. He blew me away, with not only his protection, but his concern for me. Even if, for the longest time, I thought it was just part of the job description. I hope he knows, I'm coming. I hope he can sense me, just as I can sense him. Because…because there's no way in hell, Charon can't feel this drive, that's pushing me towards him. I'll be angry, I know, for him leaving me alone, confused, and in such pain. But, I'll also be so happy, to see his face. So happy, to know he's alive and see it. I'll melt, if he touches me, and then I'll ask him to do it again, and again, and again.


	18. I was Born with Innocence

(Zack)

She's been gone a couple days now. Well, really just one and a half. Dad says that these trips take time, but he's sure she'll be back within a month or two. I can't wait a month, though. I want her to come back now with Charon. Because you know then, then life can really pick up again. Right where it left off, ya know? I can have them teach me everything now. Everything I was too young to learn way back when, and everything I was too small to handle. I can't wait. Not only to have them back but also to learn and to go out there. Since I'm older, I know dad won't object to me going with them on trips. It'll be fun. And trust me, living in Megaton lacks the fun card.

"Think they'll be alright?"

I ask dad while he works on a bike. It's a bike with an engine, like the truck. It's been his side project for years and years, and I don't really think he's ever going to finish it. I don't even know why he's working on it. Doesn't look safe or fun for that matter. Still it gets him outside to the back where he keeps it. Except when it rains. Then he brings it inside. Never told me why, really.

"Dez'll be fine. She always is. Have some faith."

Bugging dad while he works on stuff is my favorite pastime. I mean, Harden is close to my age and we could hang out but he's too much like his dad and that annoys me. When we did hangout like, a year or something ago, he'd always ask about Dez and Charon and that bothered me. His dad was always sort of like an enemy to those two and Harden is sorta the same way. All walking around high and mighty because he's going to be the next sheriff of Megaton when his dad kicks the bucket. If you ask me it ain't much to be proud of, to be a sheriff here. Now, to be a vigilante of the Capital Wasteland like Dez, that's something. That's really better than a stupid sheriff. You know, fighting bad guys with guns and shooting wrong-doers and everything. Much cooler.

"I have faith I just want her to come home now."

"Zack, she ain't been gone a week."

"It's _so long_!"

"Stop whinin' give shit time. Hell there's no guarantee she'll come back with Charon, either, so don't get your hopes up."

I frown at dad even though he can't see me. Harden walks past the front of the shop. He sees me in the back, and turns around. Great.

"Hey Zack."

I roll my eyes because I don't want to be his friend. He's stupid.

"Go off with Harden and leave me alone. I'm working on this."

"Da-ad it's not _work_ you like playing with this stupid thing."

"Exactly. More the reason for you to not bug me. Go."

"Whatever."

So I go off with Harden to walk around. Megaton isn't that big when you grow up in it. I know every nook and cranny in this place. It's stupid and I want a bit more than this. Which is why Dez and Charon need to hurry back here, so they can teach me all they know and I can go and do something with my life. You know, like Dez is. I bet, it was a ton of fun.  
"Hey I saw that girl who used to be here when I was little."

"What girl?"

I play dumb with Harden because he _always_ asks about Dez. Can't he just shut up and ask about the weather for once? Maybe if he mentioned it when we hung out, we wouldn't always be caught running back home in the rain.

"Dez. That girl, you know. I didn't know she was back."

"She just left again."

"Hey you know what else I found out?"

I look at his stupid face. He has this look that says he's better than me, or something. I don't know I don't care. Usually Harden is all suck-facing with Maggie which suits me fine. After all, it keeps him away from me, and I'd do anything to have that. Even eat Brahmin shit, that's how much I hate him.

"I heard from my dad that your mom worked in the saloon."

"Tell me something I _don't_ know."

"Okay. She was a whore."

I stop and glare at him. My mother wasn't a 'whore'. Well, she was, but, it wasn't her choice. Moriarty made it be like that and dad said so. So didn't Dez. Not really Charon because he always said he didn't care for 'spoken rubbish', whatever the hell that means.

"She wasn't a 'whore' she was a call-girl and Moriarty made her, like Moriarty made my dad work there."

"Well, my dad says that you're one upstanding Megaton citizen. The product of a ghoul-slave and a hooker. Says you're probably not even your dad's real kid. That your mom probably just needed a sugar daddy and you dad was the only one stupid enough to fill the slot."

I punch him. Yup, just like Charon taught me. I get him right in the cheekbone, too. He swirls around a bit then falls like a ton of bricks. Man, I'm glad I'm not a wimp. There's this kid who lives around here that sort of is, and really gets shit for it.

"Don't talk about my parents!"

Harden stares up at me as I ball my hands into fists again.

"I'll make you eat those words if you open your filthy mouth again!"

"Shut up, ghoul-boy."

I kick him while he tries to get up, and he goes back down.

"Hey what the hell are you doin'?"

Shit. The good old sheriff Simms. Harden gets up and starts playing victim while I get a lecture. It always ends like this. Whenever me and Harden fight, no matter who starts it, I get in trouble and dad gets fined.

"Yeah well, he said shit about my mom. Why don't you teach your kid some manners? Some great sheriff he's going to be if he picks fights with the citizens!"

I never talk back to Simms, but today I do. Maybe it's Dez being back, or maybe it's the fact that her and Charon might be returning that gives me the confidence to. Either way, I should have kept my mouth shut. Simms grabs me by the ear, with Harden laughing in the background and drags me home like I'm six. What the hell? I can't wait till Dez and Charon get back here. You know, they should duel. Dez and Simms I mean. For mayor of Megaton. It'd be a nice gig for someone like Dez, who actually left Megaton and did a whole slew of things. A good retiring job. She's tough and fair and wouldn't take bullshit or play favorites. I'll toss the idea to her once I get out of this trouble I'm about to be in with dad.

"As much as we all appreciate having you with your shop after the incident with Moria, Gob, it'd be smart to teach your kid there ain't no fighting in my town. Unless it's in a bar, I don't approve."

Simms lets my ear go as we reach my dad. Dad isn't thrilled as he looks up from the bike with engine he's working on, but he also knows Harden is a dick.

"Which one started the fight this time, Simms? My son, or my son?"

"You got it right both times there, Gob."

"Find it hard a kid like Zack is gonna pick fights on purpose all the time. Once, twice, three times sure but all the time?"

"Keep talking and you'll find yourself on the far side of these walls with no way back in. Wouldn't want that would you now?"

"I don't give a shit, Simms. You been treatin' me and my boy no better than Moriarty treated his mother an' me. Take your laws an' stuff 'em."

What the hell has gotten into dad? We could lose our _home_ and as far as I know these things are scarce in this world. Since when does he have balls as big as Dez's? He _never_ talked back to Simms, why now?

"Why you actin' so tough now, Gob? Finally get some action?"

My dad stands up, wiping his hands with a black-stained white rag. He looks at Simms, taking his time. Dad just got a whole lot cooler. When he sticks up for me, parents around the world beware. Dad is a whole new man.

"Naw, nothin' like that. Say, when Dez gets back here with Charon you should ask them how they've been. It's been what, five years? Sure they've got lots of stories."

"Now that your friends are back you're acting like big man on campus?"

"Nope. Just got a lot to lose by pickin a fight with you, Simms. Figure since those two ain't got no house here, they ain't part of the laws you wrote up. You know as well as I do it was Dez who shot Moriarty, and you know also as well as I that you didn't have the courage to ask her about it. Zack here is like her own, and she won't be pleased with these one-sided fines you been handin' out to us."

Wow. You go dad! Simms is ten shades of red right now and angrier than a branded Brahmin. He really has nothing to say against dad, though. I mean, dad is right and in all fairness Simms can't fine us. It's not like we don't have the money, though, dad's really good at saving a lot and spending a little. Plus, my dad is really needed around here. Even though there's an armory, there's not many other people who'll run a repair shop as cheaply as my dad does, or someone who knows about things that haven't been rebuilt in years. So, Simms has nothing better to do than to walk away from it all and whine about it to his kid. I'm pretty proud of dad, you know. Dez being back really brightened him up, and it makes me real happy to see him that way.

"Dad, that was _so _cool!"

My dad shrugs and goes back to working on his thing.

"Yeah well, got sick of Simms pickin' on you. Don't think I don't know Harden is at the brunt of it all. I watch and listen more than you think."

"Yeah, thanks for that, dad. I'm sick of getting blamed."

"What was the fight over this time?"

"Mom."

"Nova?"

I nod, and sit on the dirt and play with a twig off of some dead tree that doesn't grow here.

"Yeah. Said she was a whore and that it was because she wanted to be and I'm not your kid and she needed a sugar daddy and you were stupid enough to fall for it."

My dad gives a hearty laugh at that. I hear him put something down, and he looks at me.

"Well, you know your mother's profession I ain't never kept nothin' from you."

"Yeah but she quit once Dez killed Moriarty."

"That she did, cuz it ain't the life she wanted."

"…Did mom, really love you, though? I mean, people say she was real pretty and stuff and no offence but ghouls and humans don't hook up much. Outside of you and mom and Dez and Charon, I haven't heard of any ghoul-human couples."

Dad shrugs, and gets this look on his face. You know, the one where he remembers mom and it really makes him happy. I like it.

"Your mother…shit, she loved me and I loved her. Ain't no other way, a woman could look at a man like she did to me, without love. When you find a girl you'll know what I mean. It don't bother me what people say, because I know she did. An' it's enough for me."

"Do you miss her?"

"Every day."

I wish I could remember mom. I don't really even know what she looked like, there's no pictures. Dad says she's the prettiest thing since Adam and Eve, whoever they were. He says she had red hair and pale skin and pretty eyes. And that she had a soothing, really pretty voice. Says she sounded like Dez, only a big higher. Dez never used to sound the way she does, dad says, too. A Deathclaw incident/accident tore up her vocal cords. From a guy's POV, though, Dez's voice is pretty hot. Still, Dez isn't my mom. As much as she filled the 'mom' slot growing up, there's a difference. I wonder, what my mom would say about me? I think Dez and I are so close though, is because she doesn't have a mom, either.

"I wish I could remember her."

"Yeah…I do too. Believe me Zack, I wish that you had your mom around. It'd make things a lot easier."

"Like how?"

Dad shrugs, smokes his cigarette and stares off into nothing.

"Well, for one I wouldn't feel so bad for grounding you. At least your mother would still make you dinner."

"What?"

"You don't get off the hook. Fighting is fighting. Go inside."

Oh, damnit.


	19. Where Were You?

(Charon)

I do not like, being followed. I do not like the impending sense, of someone being so close to me. It is uncomfortable. It makes me uneasy, and nervous. Due in part to my training this is normal. Having someone hidden behind the curtain of my life whilst I am on stage is not a comforting matter. I am forced to question as to why they are there, their purpose for following me, their reasoning and if or not they will open that trapdoor I so very much dread. Although I am less than a half-day's walk from Underworld, I choose to cease my travels. I choose, for the night, to relax and try to bring myself some form of sleep. Yet, with the person so close upon me, I find that increasingly difficult.

I felt the sense of being followed as I arose from a sleep I took close to the Potomac River. I had not yet crossed it, and it was the sense that someone was nearby that woke me. Yet when I rose, I saw no one. Simply felt the wind carry over some strange and unfamiliar essence, as if it were perfume of some sort. Women these days, do not even use soap, let alone have the opportunity to use artificial scent enhancers. At first I was intrigued by this mysterious person, assuming it to be a woman. My mind ran through the list of female associates, but none I would think, would choose to follow me. How do I know, that I am being followed and not simply on the same path as another person? I cannot tell you. Simply that I have never felt this sense so strongly before. It is the same feel I would get in my training and in Anchorage when I felt the enemy close. When I could hear their breathing, miles and miles away over the sounds of nature and the blowing wind.

Since I do not wish to lead them to the remains of Underworld, and put at risk what is left of the empire I helped to create, I chose rather to stay here. Here, in the metro tunnels that provide the cover of darkness and the advantage of echoes. A small whisper is as loud as a scream in these tunnels, and I want to use that to the best of my abilities and take out whomever it is that is following me. Although, I cannot imagine or comprehend, of someone stupid enough to try and follow me. I have made many enemies in my excursions of finding my past, and repairing it to the best of my abilities, so I would not be surprised to find a stranger at the other end of this cat-and-mouse game.

I reside in the shadows of the metro station. On the side of the old escalators that once carried people, I watch my breathing and wait for the person to enter inside. I suspect them to be not a few hours' time behind me, and want to see the follower, before I lay a trap or perhaps due away with them. It has been a while, since there was a challenging kill for me, and I would enjoy the contest. Perhaps if I die in the line of fire, I will no longer feel this burden placed upon me. This burden, that even sleep cannot release me from.

It has crossed my mind, that this follower could be the very person I walked away from. But, I digress. Gob would never disobey an order I have given him, especially now. Gob, is not that stupid and foolish, he knows I would come back for him. According to him, Dez has been in solitary for the past five years. Meaning, very much so, her skills at surviving in the Wasteland have faltered. He knows, that if I find her body laying within the sands of time, wasted and withered, it will be him I go after. Simply because I no longer wish to see her, does not mean I do not care for her. Quite the opposite. It is only because she would no longer accept me as I am now, that I do not. I am sparing us both, the heartache of seeing one another, and the pain of once again saying goodbye. As much…as I miss her most nights, the want for her to have a better life, is greater than my own happiness. I forget now, what it is to feel happy. I forget most things, these days, of being human.

Above me, I hear the movement of many feet. I hold my breath, even though I am aware that this is not my follower. Voices, travel down to where I am hiding, and I notice it is only a group of Raiders. They make small talk, disrupting the silence and making a racket. It is late, and they talk of camping right above me on the platform. If they do this, my follower may not survive the ambush. They will be walking into a group of four or five Raiders and I do not presume they know how to handle that situation. It makes things easier for me, but I would rather see who this person is, before I take advantage of the distraction and head on my way.

When I get to Underworld, I am not sure, what I plan to do. I know it is destroyed and inaccessible, but simply being there might give me some peace. Might be able, to soothe and relax my tired body. Lately, I have been using my training in a manner I am not use to. Before, when I traveled the Wasteland and even when I was with John, I would simply kill uncaring of the noise or how obvious things were. I trusted my well-trained body and my sharpened mind to keep me from any danger, and to work myself out if anything happened. Now, with age and experience, my body is no longer capable of handling such things. I utilize now, the parts of stealth and patience, rather than brash and impulsiveness. These Raiders will give me the distraction I need, to map out a plan that will benefit me, with all of them dead in the end, and the person who is following me, dead as well. Unless of course, they somehow survive. Me against another person is not so difficult, as me against five. There was a time, when an army, was not enough to stop me. But, that was long ago.

The Raiders sit and talk loudly, as the night draws on. They leave me to my thoughts and memories, unknowing I am below them. This is not how I planned to spend my night. Time is something I no longer have much of, and do not wish to waste most of it sitting quietly beneath a stairwell waiting for a person who, due to the noise the Raiders are making, may not appear anyways. I wish they would hurry up and fall asleep, so that if my follower has not heard them yet, then they will not. Patiently, I wait, however growing more and more impatient.

My mind is not a place I visit often, nor is it a place I wish to be. My past…my past comes back. Not the one I grew up with, not the one that caused me to blackout and ruin everything I had worked for, no. But the one, where Dez is such a prominent figure, and the times when I was once happy, taunt and mock me. When these parts, come forth during the coldest and darkest nights, it is as if another person stands in my place now. Who I am now, does not like, who they were. They are jealous, and envious in ways I never thought possible. That person, who smiles and hold Dez into the night, who kisses her and brings her comfort, that person who is so much me yet not, enrages me. Enrages me, to the point where I have done things to others…I wish not to speak about. Where, in the heat of battle, my mind has slipped and I opened my eyes to nothing but an unrecognizable corpse below me. A blackout, in a different sense.

So far, I have done well to keep it in check. Done well to rid myself of any and all things pertaining to my past and am careful of which memories I choose to think of. Still, there is always a chance. Just as there is always a chance one day Gob will tell Dez of my presence. I hope, if that day comes, she hates me for leaving her alone. I know her, and I know despite the changes she has gone through, one question will remain the same: Why did he leave me alone? I could have found her, easily. It is so simple, for a person like me to seek out nearly anything. Yet, I did not. There is reason for that, though. Reason enough, that hopefully one day she will come to understand. There were things I had to deal with, things I had to take care of. I had hoped, when it was over, I would be able to find her and return but…it was too late by then. Too much time had passed, and the pain I knew she was feeling, was too great. I could not, let her go through it, and claim it all for nothing. Instead, I chose to walk away. If this…if this is the right choice, then why is it so difficult?

No one, said anything would be easy when we were born. We were not given a manual on the do and do not of things to live by. Perhaps, the right thing to do is the hardest. That the easier something seems to be, shows that it is not the way you were intended to go. Walking back to her, would be difficult in and of itself. The emotions that would come with that, the trials and tests of one another's newfound character, would be a lot harder to face, than walking away. Yet, with both choices difficult in their each respect, I cannot help but wonder if I was able to choose the right thing. Her happiness, matters to me more than anything in this world. She is happy, or will be, with Gob and Zack. With friends and close kin, I know that Dez will flourish with time.

As angry as I get, at the thought of Dez laying with Gob, kissing him and other such things, I know…I know it is for the best. If I cannot be there, if I cannot give her what she needs, then he can. He can, and I will live with the fact that for the first time, Gob is a better man than myself. For he will succeed, where I have justly failed. Being…being a romantic man, was never part of my training. It was never shown, and I never knew how to properly touch a woman. I do not know, if I caused Dez pleasure or if it was simply the heat of the moment that made her cry my name. I will never know. I can only argue that I did my best with what was given to me, and hope that is acceptable enough.

Catcalls and noises from above jolt me from my thought patterns. I cannot claim to know how much time has passed, simply that now the Raiders are stirring. Is my follower truly that foolish? The laughter and near-drunken words of these ingrates can be heard through the wire fencing on the outside, why would they continue onwards? Either, this person is quite foolish, or quite determined to follow me. In the end it does not matter which one, since they will not live to speak much after I am through. Or hopefully, after the Raiders are through.


	20. Epiphany

(Dez)

I'm scared to see him. I'm scared, to get closer and hurry this whole trip along. I go slow, so that I can have time to think. There's no mistaking he's in Underworld, because I've thought about it. There really is no other place Charon would need to go to these days, and no other place he feels comfortable enough to rest in. But, even though I know where he is, I'm still scared. Really, really scared.

It's been five years, you know. Five years, since I last saw him, and since I last believed him to be alive. Just two days ago, I thought he was dead. Dead as they come, ready to be put in the ground six feet below. It's a lot to take in, hearing he's alive, and taking off after him in such a short amount of time. To be honest, I sort of blame myself for it all, really. I mean, what if I didn't run away? What if I did the smart thing, and simply ran to Gob? Then, a lot of this probably wouldn't have happened. Think about it, it just works. I feel like, because I ran away, I was the one who burdened everyone the most.

I'm sorry, that I fell into this hole. I'm sorry, that I didn't pick myself up like I should have. Just, thinking you did something that horrible, you don't think logically in the heat of the moment. All I could think to do, was run. Run, and let go of Charon's hand, so that we could separate. Truthfully, I wanted to die right there alongside with him. I didn't, want to part ways without him. Didn't want to leave the man that I had loved and trusted most of all the men in the world. The only person, I had spent years upon years with, and never got sick of. We had worked so hard, at staying together, at getting the life both of us so badly wanted. Instead I ran away from it all. Because…I was just…caught up in a moment.

As I walk, I don't pay attention to much. I just walk and walk. Not too far ago, I waded across the shallow end of the Potomac River without a second thought. Right now, I'm just walking with a cigarette in my hand, and smoking it every now and again. The nicotine stops my hunger, and keeps me going even though chain smoking makes my lungs feel really sticky. Plus the river wasn't as irradiated as I remember it to be. Most of it was fresh, but I still got a slight warming sensation.

I mindlessly pick the lock on the gate that leads to the familiar underground. Being home, the shock of it hasn't really passed me. The happiness I felt when I first left Megaton so far has dissipated and been replaced with nerves. Put yourself in my shoes, and tell me you don't feel nervous. Trust me, it's a nerve wracking experience. What do I say to him? I mean, I can't just walk up and say 'hello, how you doin' after five years of absence. How do I explain where I've been? How do I contain the anger I have towards him for not telling me he's alive? The noise of Mozart's _Lacrimosa_ blocks out any noises that may signal danger. Just thinking of music, calms my nerves. Not as much as playing music, but I have to take what I can get, you know?

Tossing my cigarette at an empty Nuka-Cola machine, I continue on. The hymens of beautiful people singing a song I wish I could sing, blocks out. Instruments, play loudly in my head as I walk with my Pip-Boy light shining brightly. Without thinking, I let out the lyrics.

"Qua resurget ex favilla…"

My voice carried and it makes an echo. Hearing it like that, makes me smile. I haven't sang in such a long time, and I wonder if I'm still any good at it. Of course that's not something I should be thinking of at a time like this, but I really can't help it. Maybe, if Charon decides to come with me again, I'll sing for him in my new voice. Sing for him, and only him. But, if he doesn't come then…when I get back to Megaton I'll have Gob find me a piano. When he does, I'll still sing for Charon. I'll play _Lacrimosa_ from memory, and I'll make sure, everyone can hear it just as I did in the small town by the shoreline. I'll play, and I'll play until my voice hurts and my fingers bleed. I'll play, for Charon, and only Charon. Looking around, I smile to myself, remembering an old song. A fire burns up ahead, but I pay it no mind. There was once a song, a song called _Preliator_. My music instructor in the vault said it meant 'Warrior' in a dead language. I can't remember the language, but I remember that song. And as I recite it in my head, I decide, that when I can play again, I will play it for Charon.

"Hey bitch!"

Well, so much for having a merry stroll down into the metro tunnels. Picking my head up, I stare forward and see five shadowed Raiders trying to be stealthy. This is easy pickings, seeing as how they look like near junkies and probably can't aim a gun to save their life. Pulling out my sawed-off, I decide since I'm highly outnumbered to not use the knife. Dying right now, on my way to see a mean I thought was dead, would be quite ironic now wouldn't it?

"I'm gonna rip your head off!"

One of them yells as they pick up a weapon. It looks like a nail-board, and I stop just a few feet shy of the opening.

"How can you rip my head off without one of your own?"

My question infuriates them, and they charge. If they were Super Mutants, which I haven't seen any of, I'd be worried. But they're just Raiders, despite how many of them there are. Cocking the gun, I hold it tight like I remember. It's so easy, to remember how to do this that it's almost comical. Squeezing the trigger, I let the bullets spray out. It hits the Raider, leaving only four of them for me to worry about. I click it again, and remember this isn't the modified sawed-off I once had.

"Shit."

Fumbling, I kick myself in my mental ass for forgetting something so vital. With the nerves of seeing Charon coupled with the nerves of fighting and adrenaline, my hands are shaking like a scared Molerat. I see a Raider run from the corner of my eye, but I don't pay attention as to where they're going. A gun blast echoes as I close my shotgun and prepare to aim it, this time with ammunition in hand. Raising it, I'm about to squeeze the trigger when I feel something hit me in the back of the head. Next thing I know, I'm face-first on the concrete, with my gun laying feet away.

"You wanna fuck with us, bitch?"

A male Raider grabs my hair, and I quickly come to my senses. I see the lead pipe he has in his hand, and know he hit me too lightly. He could have easily killed me with that thing, but chose not to for some reason. I know that reason.

"Fuck you!"

I yell and start to kick. A second Raider comes over and grabs my gun from the ground, which is perfectly fine. With a free hand, I drop the ammo and reach for the knife at my waist. Pulling it is easy, using it is another story. As I swing it upwards to hit the one who bludgeoned me, a third Raider comes over and gives me a swift kick in the torso. My reaction time and skills have very much dulled with my absence out here, and I should have been a lot smarter. Should have came with a ranged weapon, and not a one-shot.

"Give me that!"

The Raider who kicked me yells and swipes the knife from my hand. In my daze of pain, and being held in a compromising position by my hair and back of my neck, there's little I can do. The Raider holding my hair starts to drag me, but not without a fight let me tell you. I kick, and flail, and do all I can to get them to let me go. They just laugh, and that pisses me off even more.

"Got ourselves a little vault-dweller! We're gonna have fun with this one!"

One of them shouts as they drag me to the fire. I see someone grab a piece of burning wood from the fire, and I do the thing that you're really not supposed to do: panic. Kicking, flailing, screaming and gnashing my teeth at whatever I can gnash at, I put up a fight. I'm sure five years ago I'd never be caught by _Raiders_ but here I am, dumber than dumb and probably deserving a kick in the ass for this.

"_Let me go! Let me go I swear I'll fucking kill you! I'll kill all of you!"_

I scream, pissed off to all hell and not liking the situation one bit. Who would? A masochist, I bet, but not me.

"Feisty one, aren't you?"

The Raider holding the red stick laughs, and I kick at him. He comes closer and closer to me, and I think. Closing my eyes and letting time pass as slow as possible, I think back to anything that could help me right now. Anything, that could give me an idea to get away from this situation. But I don't think of anything. I don't, and when I stall for just a second I feel the white-hot pain of the Raider pressing the searing stick to my skin. Flesh has a distinct smell, and it's a smell I know. I scream, in agonizing pain, for all the world around to hear. The Raiders laugh and laugh, as they pull the stick from my thigh. The fabric of the vault suit melts to my skin, no shock there, and I feel more pain as the stick is being pulled away, taking some flesh with it.

"_Fuck you!"_

I scream, feeling this sort of pain for the first time since I can remember. At least, before, I knew what to expect. I knew what it felt like to be shot, attacked, raped, burned, you name it I've felt it. But with the break my toughened skin has grown soft, and it feels worse than it did the first time I stepped out of the vault.

"I think she likes it. Shall we try again?"

The Raider holding me by the back of the neck laughs, and I close my eyes. I force my mind to go to a happy place. A place where there is no pain, no suffering, and no burning and numbing feelings on my thigh. Suddenly, though, my mind is broken. I snap from the happy place, as my legs and torso kick and squirm. The deafening noise of a gun blasting, makes me open my eyes. In front of me, the Raider holding the stick stands. Blood, spews from his mouth as he tries to talk, and there's a hole where his abdomen should be. Well, you can't see _through_ it, but hell you might as well should be able to. I watch, shocked, as he falls to his knees.

The Raider holding me loosens his grip enough. I pull free and stand up. The pain in my thigh subsides for a moment, as the will to survive kicks in. Raising my hand, I ball it into a fist and knock him square in the nose. Blood sprays out, and I make a mental note as I grab his lead pipe to thank my savior.

Raising the pipe I bring it down on the Raider, and another blast echoes through the tunnels. That's three, and there's one more. I hear him running, and before I can grab my gun from the hands of the newly shot Raider who lays dying to my left, I hear one last gunshot, and his body falling down the steps. It's quiet for a moment, as I catch my breath and slow my racing heart. Man. I've missed the thrill, of a good fight.

Closing my eyes, I turn around as the natural chemicals of my body slow down. As I calm myself, and listen to the silence. Sighing, I let the lead pipe fall from my hands, and open my eyes. The pain in my thigh returns to me, but right now…right now, I don't give a damn about it. I don't really give much a damn about anything right now. In the shadowed darkness, lit only by a dying fire and the light from my Pip-Boy, stands a tired, and breathless Charon. It's been five years, and the hole where I stabbed him, is still fresh through his armor.

We stand in silence, staring at one another. So…so many emotions. I feel the tears flowing, but I don't register them. My hands shake so violently, that if I was holding my gun it would surely fire. I guess, this is what it feels like. To be so angry, and so happy at the same time. To have waves of disbelief and sadness, joy and triumph running and pumping in your veins all at once. I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. Nothing. There's nothing I have to say.

Calmly, Charon puts his gun on his back and stands. He's not shaking, or crying like an idiot like I am. Instead he's standing calm, looking at me, and looking through me. I can't really contain myself anymore, and I run at him. I run at him, and wrap my arms around him. Around that familiar torso, around his hips, around the body that I use to hold every night so tightly. I press my head into his chest, crying, sobbing, and inhaling the familiar scent of him, of Brahmin and leather.

"You're…you're so _stupid_! You're fucking _stupid_!"

I wail out, holding the straps that keep the plates on his shoulder. With small fists, I hit his chest and cry. I cry because I'm so happy to see him, because I'm so sad that he left me. I hit him, because I'm so angry at him.

"_Say something_!"

I scream as I hold him. A part of me wants to let him go, but my body won't listen. Won't listen as I cling to his armor and cry like a maniac. Looking up at him…I cry more. Raising my hand, I touch his face. He feels the same, looks the same. The only constant in my life, the only thing that's ever stayed ageless.

"What are you doing here?"

His voice is raspy. It comes out monotone, the same way he spoke to me in the Ninth Circle. Charon stares at me, eyes swimming with blank emotions, and expressionless features. I don't want to believe this is him. He moves his hands, and wraps them around my wrists. The touch of him against me overloads my senses, and I don't realize in time what he's doing. Taking me hands off of him, Charon takes a step back and stares at me. Charon…is this…what you've become?

"Charon?"

"You were to stay in Megaton. You were not to come here."

How can he be so calm? No, no I knew this would happen I knew it. I just…I just never really expected it. I didn't prepare myself. I let myself believe…that somehow…he'd be the same.

"…I'm sorry…"

I say, feeling like a scolded child.

"Go back. Go back to Gob and forget you ever saw me."

"What?"

"You heard me."

That bastard. He turns to walk away from him, but the anger I feel gets the better of me. I grab a leather strap that goes through the metal plate on his shoulder and swing him around. Channeling the Dez I once was, I hit him as hard as I can in the face. I'm not sorry anymore.

"You_ bastard_! You fucking prick! Don't walk away!"

"Let go of me."

"No! No _fuck you_!"

I go to hit him again but he grabs my wrist. He grabs both of them, and this just angers me even more. Tears run down my face, my body shakes, and I can hardly contain my emotions. I want to be calm right now, calm, rational and reasonable, but there's no way. There's no way, for me to be the mature woman I so proudly thought I was. When I'm around Charon, I'm no stronger than a little girl. Looking up at him through bleary eyes, his face is so unclear. How can he look at me, so calm and emotionless?

"Calm yourself. Return to Megaton."

"_No_! I can't take _anymore!_"

"Anymore of what?"

"_This!_"

I push him back, his hands slide from my wrists, and he lets me go. It may be, the last time he ever touches me. For a minute I think he's lost balance, and he'll fall backwards. But he doesn't, he catches himself and stands tall and straight, his eyes burning holes into me.

"I'm _nothing_ without you! _Nothing_! And you stand here and tell me to _go back_? Fuck you! Fuck you!"

"Have some dignity. You are making a fool of yourself."

"To who, Charon? Who am I making a fool of myself to? We're _alone_! Am I making a fool of myself to _you_? Well I don't _care!_ Then everything we've done together is foolish, stupid, and meant _nothing_!"

He folds his arms in front of his chest, and sighs.

"It is about time you realize that."

What? All of a sudden time sort of, freezes. I can't even hear myself think over the beating of my heart. Should I believe him? Is this heartless being truly the Charon who once held me so close at night? Who once held me while I cried, and fought alongside me even when the reasoning for that fighting was null? Outside, thunder echoes and carries down to the tunnel. Even underground, the noise above breaks through.

"…Everything…was for nothing, wasn't it?"

I say, my voice sore from screaming. It's soft, defeated, as I stand before someone who can make or break me.

"If that is how you wish to view it."

"Answer me!"

I put weight down on my left leg, the one with the burn. Pain rushes up through me, and I hiss at it. It distracts me, and I realize that this is the first time I'm wounded, and Charon does nothing to help. As much as I've changed, everything else…stayed the same. Charon stays silent, not answering my question or even asking if I'm okay. I have to question, if coming here, was the right thing to do. If this, was the choice I was meant to make.

"…Fine. I'll take your silence as an answer."

"And you will return to Megaton?"

I can't bear to talk to him anymore. I don't even want to look at him. Nodding my head, I stare at the ground next to him, while my hand covers the burn on my thigh. Another loud clap of thunder, and I hear the rain echoing from the outside. The river will get bigger. It'll flood, so I'll have to wait a bit, before I head back. I just…can't believe I was stupid enough to come out here. Can't believe, I thought things actually had a chance to go back. Or that, Charon actually needed my help.

"Very well. You should head back now, before the river grows too large. There is a strong current when it rains, and I do not think you wish to be caught in it."

"It wouldn't matter if I was, what the hell do you care? What do you care, about anyone except yourself?"

My eyes meet his, and for a second, I see the man he used to be.

"I never said I did not care. Simply said that you should return to Megaton."

"You said what we did was all for nothing."

"No, you assumed I did. Just as you are assuming I do not care."

"How can you care? You don't see me for five years, and then avoid me. Save my life and tell me to go home, as if you never cared or stopped caring. I thought at least…you'd be happy…to know I was alive and safe…"

Picking up the combat knife, I look at it. It's not stained with blood, it's hardly ever used. I throw it at his feet, uncaring.

"I don't need this. I don't know why I kept it."

Charon bends down and takes his knife. He doesn't even look at it, as he clips it to his waist where he always used to keep it. Where it was, the day I made that hole in his armor. Why hasn't he bothered to repair it? It's been so long, he should have had it fixed by now.

"I still care, Dez. I have always cared. It is time that does not."

"Time? What the hell are you talking about? Can't you talk like a normal person or does the brainwashing have your tongue again?"

"Just stating time has changed us. I am not the person you remember me to be, and for that reason I feel it is best we part ways. Accept it is over, and what we had is over."

"No. No, Charon. I can't accept it I _won't_."

"So tell me what you are going to do, instead of accepting it?"

"Get you back. This isn't you."

"No? Is it not me, because you dislike what I have become?"

"Exactly."

"Then would I not be 'me' persay, if I returned to the way I was? If I suppressed this side of me, to please you? Although you would not care, because you would be happy. It has always been that way. So long as you were happy, no one else mattered and there was no one more important. I see the time we spent apart has not changed you in the least. You are still the naïve and foolish girl you always have been."

"What do you know? You haven't spoken to me in _five_ years! You let me think you were dead! Then you waltz on back into my life like nothing happens and tell me _I'm_ the spoiled one!"

"You were the one following me. You are the one, waltzing into this."

"Shut up, Charon."

Wiping my face with the back of my hands, I try my best to look presentable. To try and look mature, and look responsible. He's wrong. He doesn't know anything, he wasn't around to know anything. He has no idea, of the pain I went through and yet he stands here, accusing me of things.

"Very well."

He turns to walk away. I let him get about halfway down the stairs before I limp after him, the burn in my thigh more severe than I thought.

"What can I say? What can I do, that would matter?"

Charon looks back at me, and shrugs.

"There is nothing."

I'm a mess. I'm a mess, but he chose me. In the beginning, of all the women he could have had, of all the ghoul-ladies he could have picked from, it was me he wanted. I'm that closet door, he can't close, and now I'm left open. Open, to what, though?

"Fix me. Just…just fix me so I can walk away. Everything…everything…is different."

I fall to my knees, because I can't take it anymore. I can't take, how much time has passed, and how different everyone is. Even Gob is different. He doesn't notice it, but I do. His way of talking, his stance, everything. Zack is nearly grown now, and he'll be venturing into the Wasteland soon on his own. When I left, he was still a kid. Gob still talked in slang, and Charon was still by my side. Now…I don't know. I'm the only one, who truly has stayed the same, and instead tried to disguise myself as being mature. Charon's right, I'm a fool, and I'm immature. Inside, I'm still a little girl, who cries out for attention.

"I'm sorry…I'm so…so sorry…for letting it…become this…for…for letting you walk away. I'm sorry I ran. I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry…for everything. Please, Charon, please…"

"Do not beg."

"Everything changes…I want to turn it back. I want to…I want to turn it back. But…but if you just forgive me…for all I've done…I can…I can walk away. Please…I'm sorry. Don't…don't let it hurt anymore. Just make it better, please…please…"

I sob as I pound the ground with my fists.

"When…when it was just…just us…no one knew what…what we could do, Charon. No one, we were…so…it was…it hurts. Just make it stop. It's been so long, I don't want…I don't want to hurt anymore…"

"Stop crying."

"…I can't…it hurts…so much and…and I had no one to talk to and…just let me go back. Let me…go back to when…when it happened and I'll…fix it all. We could…stay there together…let me fix it. We can still…conquer the world please…I can't…"

Looking up at him, he stares down at me as I sit on my knees, in utter shame and despair. He has no emotion, he has no feelings. The only noise, is the noise of my sobbing and crying, echoing through the tunnels and letting every Raider and feral know my whereabouts. Soon, I hear the movement of his feet. He goes down the rest of the steps, as I keep my eyes tightly closed.

Charon walks, because I know, there's nothing I can say. Nothing, I can say to make him stay, because he's right. It hurts, beyond any other hurt I've ever felt. It has hurt, for years and more. Still, he never said, he forgave me. Knowing he doesn't, hurts more than him walking away. Instead of talking, I just sob, curled into a ball of pathetic emotions. The pain in my thigh, is nothing compared to the pain in my heart.

"…If you do not collect yourself, then you will be harmed."

I hear his voice from the bottom of the steps, and I look up. He stands at the base of them, staring up at me.

"…I don't…I don't…care."

"But I do. Stand up."

I shake my head and cradle my face in my hands. I've been running for five years. I don't want to run away anymore. I want to face this, fix it if I can. If I can't, I just want to know he forgives me, and that our past wasn't in vain. That at one time or another, Charon loved me. If I know that, then…then I can stand up. Then I can move on. Then maybe, if he wants, he can run with me. Because, for five years, his memory has kept me from falling out of love. If I ever believed in anything, it was love. Because time after time, it always brought us back together. Now, I don't know, what to believe in. I never wanted love to fail. Rain from above, drips down through the cracks in the pavement. It hits me on the top of the head, but I don't bother to move. After five years, I'm still just as much tangled up in Charon, as I always have been. Pitiful, isn't it?

I hear his footsteps, and in my state, I don't know what to think. Soon, though, I don't feel the steady stream of water cascading down on my head. Looking up, I see Charon standing over me.

"Stand up."

He grabs my arm and pulls me to my feet. My thigh jerks and I hiss at the pain. I guess I've lost tolerance. Charon stands a step below me, but I'm still not taller than him. We're almost the same height, and he looks into my reddened eyes.

"If you stay here, you will be harmed. Gather your thoughts, and go home. You have a good life now, Dezbe. You have Gob and Zack waiting for you."

"They're waiting for you, too."

"My place is not with them."

"Neither is mine."

Charon sighs, and shakes his head.

"I have to go to Rivet City."

I say, going out on a huge limb here. Charon looks at me, folding his arms over his chest.

"Why is that?"

"I have to talk to Barrows."

"I assume this would pertain to Zack?"

"No. It pertains to me."

The only display of emotion Charon gives, is the raise of an eyebrow. He says nothing, so I continue on. Hoping in a way, the past will bring him back to me. This isn't, the man I knew. It's not just because I don't like it, either. I know Charon, I know him and all the skeletons in his closet. I know, somewhere behind this cold person, is him. Truly him. I just hope I'm strong enough, to help him out.

"…Even if you don't, I want to pick up where I left off."

"I do not follow."

"I want a family. Doc Church in Megaton won't be able to tell me if I can do this or not. I need to know. I have to go to Rivet City."

"You are hardly the motherly type. How can you raise a child, when you cannot even take care of yourself?"

"Because for once someone will be more important than me!"

Charon shakes his head, and starts to walk down the steps. I realize how crazy that just sounded, and I kick myself in the ass. Slowly, I limp down the stairs after him.

"I want to know if I can. If I'm still able to after all my body went through. I want to know, that if one day I decide to have a family, it will be possible."

"And who do you think will start a family with you?"

"Someone. Someone, will love me enough, to want a child with me. Because…that's what you do, when you love someone. When you grow up, and care about someone else. You make a child, out of that love. Isn't that…how we all came to be? How me, and even you?"

Charon stops walking as I get to the last step. He doesn't look at me. For five years, I assume he's had no one around to push his buttons. Pushing his buttons, is the only way, to bring him out.

"When you were made, I'm sure your mom and dad didn't think anything horrible. I'm sure, that you, just like me, was created out of love. Even though they gave you up, and you had the life you did, they loved you. They loved you enough to go back!"

"And that was their stupidity."

"No it was their love! They loved you just like my mom loved my dad! Like Nova loved Gob and like every fuckin' person out here just the same!"

"My parents came here with very little and could not provide for me. Which is why they gave me up. I have looked into my own past, Dezbe. I know my own story."

"And think of how hard it was for her to do that! How hard it was for your mom, to give a stranger the only child she ever knew of! I can promise you she didn't _want_ to hand you over. And I know, for a fact, if she knew what would have happened, she never would have let anyone take you away from her."

"And how do you come to this conclusion?"

"Because I'm a woman. Because I know…I know the ties, that bond mother to child, are stronger than anything in the world. It must have…must have killed her, to give you away."

Charon stands with his hands clasped tightly into fists by his sides.

"Just take me to Rivet City. I can make it home fine, but I can't be alone out here right now. I'll die. I have to get use to being out here."

He says nothing, but walks forward. I keep a distance from him as I limp behind. The air is thick, angry, and tense. I guess no one has ever brought up Charon's mother before.

"…Morten has something to do with the god of Mars, you know. Mars, is the god of war. She named you, I bet, because she knew you'd be strong."

"Enough about my past. I have spent five years digging it up I do not wish to speak of it."

"…But…you're Charon now. So I wonder, if I'm talking to Charon, or Morten? Was it Charon, who loved me all those years ago, or was it Morten? These are questions you should have asked youself."

He sighs, and stops walking. He lights a cigarette and sits down on the edge of an uprising. You know, the things that run on either sides of the tracks through the tunnels. I sit down, happy to take weight off of my leg.

"I did. I asked myself many things, in these years."

This is his way of saying, he will take me to Rivet City, and work with me. I knew this would be hard, but I didn't know it would be this hard. Stupidly, I hoped just seeing me, would be enough to bring him back. I can see now, Charon needs me more than he's ever needed anyone.

"…It must be hard for you. To go by training, or by instincts. I can't even begin to understand, what it takes, to fight those battles."

"How is your leg?"

I show it to him, but he doesn't make any movement to try and fix it. Right now, Charon and I are strangers to one another. We're no longer lovers, or even friends. That's okay, though, because all that matters is we're together. I don't know if he knows it, and if he does he won't admit it, but I can tell how badly he needs someone right now. There's a tired look to him, one that I knew all too well, when I returned from New Vegas. A look, that says it's time to be done, with the fighting and the wandering. A look, I had, for the past five years.

"You know, Charon, I never told you, but…I really did want a kid, too."

He looks at me, and I shrug.

"The idea of the two of us, giving a kid all we never had…was nice. I wouldn't have minded, raising a small family with you."

"You had five years to begin your own family."

"We both did. But we didn't, did we?"

"I do not know, which direction to go in now. I do not know, what it is you want from me."

I smile sadly. Sometimes, you come to a crossroad. Sometimes life takes you places, where you don't know what to do anymore. All I wanted before, was Charon to be alive and come back to me. Somehow my wish was granted and now…neither one of us know how to act, in the presence of the other. Maybe, he's right. Maybe it is over for us.

"I don't know what I want, either. Too bad time travel isn't possible, huh?"

Charon doesn't laugh. It don't look like he has, in years.

"I will take you to Rivet City."

"I know you will. You really had no choice in that."

"And I will tell you, that I forgive you. I never, held a grudge against you. I have always forgiven you, and I am sorry that I was not able to tell you this sooner. Perhaps it could have spared you some pain in your life."

I smile at him. He stares at his feet, a broken man from time and experience. My heart beats a bit faster, with just looking at him. I know it's stupid, and immature, and childish, but I'm still devoted to him. Still hoping, that maybe, we can rekindle what we had. I know it won't be easy, if it can be fixed, but things like this are never easy. You really have to fight for what you want, and I want Charon. I've…always wanted Charon. He's really the only thing, I like about myself.

"Whatever happens, between now and Rivet City, I'll be okay with it. If you want to leave, it'll be alright. If you want to stay, then that's even better."

"There was once a time, when I had hoped there was no end, to what you and I could do. That, was long ago."

"…Yeah. Me too. But, maybe we just needed closure."

"Perhaps."

Yawning, I lay down on the ground. Using my arms as pillows, I sigh. Charon might not be here, when I wake up in the morning, but that's okay. I guess, there's nothing I can do to fight it anymore. He can bring me to my knees, make me beg, and feel insecure, but…sometimes, you have to say goodbye. Maybe, if he's here when I wake up, I'll know what to do.

"I still love you, though. I always will."

I say, before falling asleep from exhaustion.


	21. Lonely Box That Holds You

(Charon)

Finally, she rests. I can no longer stand to look at her, so I have to look away. I force myself, to concentrate only on my cigarette, and nothing else. Not even my own mind. There is no trusting it. No trusting myself. Dez lays on the gravel, between wall and tracks, her chest moving softly up and down. I was…shocked when I saw her. It almost, brought me to tears, for the first time, in years.

She is sickly thin, as Gob stated to me in Megaton. Dark circles reside beneath her eyes, and I know it is not lack of sleep that causes them. Her eyes although dark, were once bright and full of life. Now, they are hollow, empty. Her hair, is limp around her face, and cheekbones are slowly beginning to make themselves prominent. I know, what causes this. I know, that at the end of the days and years, I am the one, who is to blame.

Watching her cry as I did, without being able to show any emotion, nearly stopped my own beating heart. Still, Dez lives in the past. Yet, we would all like to do that, since the past holds good times. Fond memories of friends and laughter. As much as I wanted to comfort her, to wrap my arms around her and promise things I would do everything to keep, I could not find it in my heart to. Could not, submit her to staying by my side, as I once did. I know now, it will only cause her pain. My time here is limited, I can feel it, and I cannot rejoin her life, only to leave it again. Hurting her, is one of the things, I regret doing in my life.

I cannot deny, though, that when I heard her voice, and knew it was her the Raiders had captured…that there was life in me once again. That my old and tired body could move as swiftly as before, and my mind was sharp as it was in my prime. I do not know, if it was the sound of her voice, or her in danger, that caused this renewal of life in me. All I do know, is that it was brief, and my body still aches from it.

Putting my cigarette out in the gravel at my feet, I steal a glance at her. The burn in her leg is severe, and prone to infection if not treated. If I had reacted faster, perhaps I could have saved her from that. It is just another thing, I failed to do with her. I have failed many times, over and over, when dealing with Dez. I cannot bring myself, to let her down again.

Getting up I travel not far from her. A part of me does not feel right, leaving her alone in this tunnel. With the rain comes wanderers and Raiders looking for shelter. I can only imagine, the trouble that would come with them finding Dez asleep. Her jumpsuit gives way to who she is. I wonder, why she chose to wear it. Why she even chose, to follow me.

She did state, how she wanted things to go back. How she still loved me, and begged me to forgive her. I forgave her so many years ago, and only wished she knew it then. She claims, that the idea of family is still fresh in her mind, and she wants nothing more than to have one. It was my idea, to begin a family. All of her wants and desires, are mine as well. I cannot share that with her. Cannot go back to the life we once had, the passage of time is too much. It has been too long, and I do not know, if I am even able, to feel as I once did. I will love her, as she still loves me, but I do not know, if I can show her or even understand anymore, emotions that deep and powerful.

Entering a side room, I grab a first aid kid from the wall. Opening it I find a stimpak and gauze, enough to help the wound on her leg, if not heal it. When we get to Rivet City, I hope Dez is able to hold up her end of the bargain. I hope, she is able to walk away from me as she so planned, and that neither one of us can have angry feelings towards the other. Yet, I want her to hate me. I would not have acted so cold towards her, if I wanted her love. Do not misinterpret me I want her love as much as I did when I first realized how I felt for her, it is just simply…I do not deserve it. Do not deserve her time, if it is only to be wasted again. As much…as much as it kills me to picture her happy with another man, I know there is no other way. I know, that whomever she decides to begin a family with, will make her happier than I ever could now.

Walking back towards her, I am relieved to find her safe, and sleeping soundly. I listen before taking a step down onto the tracks, and hear nothing. No hissing of feral ghouls, no mocking cries of Raiders. Not even the rain pattering down from above. Yet I know it is still raining, because the air down here is thick and moist. It is almost suffocating. Stepping down, I tread softly over to her. I hope that she is still a heavy sleeper, because I would not want to wake her. I do not, rather, want to wake her.

I open the box, and pull out the stimpak. Biting the tip I know before I even get close to her thigh, that the stab will wake her. I know she will not mind me helping her, she always enjoyed it when I helped her in the past. As my hands graze the fabric of her suit, just as I predicted, she stirs in her sleep. Drowsily, she lifts her head and opens her eyes, staring at me.

"…Huh?"

She mutters, and I know there is no turning back.

"You are prone to infection. Let me help."

Dez turns her body around so that I can get to the burn easier. She sits up, watching me as she digs in her pocket. She pulls out a pack of cigarettes, and lights one for herself.

"How long…have I been sleeping?"

Dez hisses a bit as I stab the wound with the stimpak, but says nothing else.

"Not long."

"You don't have to do that."

"You will not be able to walk to Rivet City or defend yourself with this. I cannot be your first defense."

"You used to be."

My hands almost drop the roll of gauze as I wrap her thigh. I am able to catch myself, and continue with the roundabout motions.

"…I guess that was in the past though…"

"That is what we generally call things that once were."

It kills me, to be this cold to her. As I finish wrapping her leg, I stand and take a seat on the uprising. Dez looks at her thigh, and shakes her head. Propping herself up against the walling, she stares at the ground.

"You know…I never told you this…but when you loved me, I was able to love myself."

I wish, that she would stop.

"…But I think…after all this is said and done, I'll have finally learned something from it. In fact, I know I will."

"What will you learn?"

She looks at me, with fresh tears in her eyes. I cannot bear to look at her, and so I tear my eyes away, and instead look at the walls behind her.

"How to shoot at someone who outdrew you."

My head snaps back to her, a near excitement.

"Do you still play?"

I ask, eager, wishing I could suppress such things.

"Yeah. I…played a lot, when I was away. I played Mozart and Beethoven, and some Tchaikovsky. It…helped."

"You…were able to remember works by such composers?"

She looks at me, and there is once again, a spark to her eyes.

"I can't write them down, but I can feel them. I just closed my eyes, and played whatever my fingers wanted. It was…sad. A lot of them…were sad pieces."

Dez, was always an exceptional musician. Whenever she would play, it was as if time itself stopped to listen. The Wasteland is lacking in music, and although her works are remakes of composers before her time and mine, people still revere it. In the saloon so many years ago, as she played and I alongside her, everyone watched in awe. Awe, at the melodies and emotions, that poured from each note and keystroke. When she tells me, her music has been sad, I feel sorrow for whomever heard it. I know, that the sadness carried in her music is enough, to make even the strongest of men cry. I hope, that I do not have to hear the notes, while I am with her.

"I see."

She curls her knees to her chin. I wish she would rest, so that there would be reason to simply sitting here. Yet I know Dez, and how she works. In this short trip, she will push my buttons and try to…for lack of a better term 'win me over'. I am already won over. I love her, there is no deeper emotion than that. I simply care for her enough, to know when to walk away. To know, when to let her go. She is blinded, and childish. Even now in her mature age she still believes in such things as, I would not doubt, Santa Claus. I am not sure, if it is a burden to her, or a comfort. I have to show her, that there are other men, who would love her more than I possibly can.

"…You know…for five years…I did think you were dead."

"I am aware."

"…I had no one to talk to. I didn't want anyone to talk to, really. I just stayed alone, in my house, and didn't do anything. Sometimes, I'd see the ocean, and it'd make everything alright for a bit. But, most of the time, I'd just stay home. We're wasting time. I had a power nap. I know you want to get rid of me now."

Dez gets up and begins to walk away. Silently, I follow her. It is taking all I have, to remain silent. To not inquire as to how she spent those five years, and to pretend to feel nothing, at the idea of her truly being alone. Gob and her have both stated she was, I simply wish not to believe it. Not to believe, that I truly hurt her enough, to force her into that life. I do not think, I can live with something, as severe as that. Looking at my waist, I see my combat knife. My feelings were right. She did keep it, all these years, and in prime condition. There is not even a scratch on it.

"Dez?"

I call out her name, and it tastes unfamiliar on my lips.

"Yeah?"

"…What will do you, if you find out you cannot bear children?"

"Not have any, obviously."

Although she is right, she is also hurting over this. I suppose, her reuniting with Zack has planted the seed of 'what if'. What if, she was with child when it happened? When the incident that tore us apart took place? Would she still be as closed off and near-death as she so seemingly is? Or rather, would she have found more reason to live, and kept on living?

As I watch her walk ahead of me, lit by the light of her Pip-Boy, I cannot help but think of the song we shared together. It has always been, a favorite of mine, and I cared enough about her, to share it with her. I wonder, if among the songs she's played, if she has played that one? I can only assume so. She walks still, with a slight limp, telling me her burn is not fully healed. It is better, but not yet. That song, has never rang truer, than it does on these cold and rainy nights. While together we walk, in a line down the tunnels, I feel it is befitting truly, for the first time.

"Hey…Charon?"

She says my name, just as she always had. With the same fluctuation and tone, of want and need. It still causes old desires to feel new inside me. It causes me, to look at her.

"Yes?"

Dez looks back at me, her eyes, watery with tears. Did I, cause that?

"How…did we end up like this? Like strangers again?"

"You know exactly how."

She lowers her gaze, before turning her head around again. She walks, with shoulders slouched forward, and an air of despair around her.

"I don't like the silence between us. Can you talk? About something, or anything?"

I want to kiss her, but…I cannot let myself. These feelings, are ripping through me, as if they are new. They are new, and yet, I know them so well.

"I do not know what to speak of."

"…I'm just sad, I guess."  
"You are in good health, with friends waiting for you in Megaton. There is nothing to be sad about."

"There's everything to be sad about."

She looks back at me once again, and it drives me crazy. Suddenly, we are shrouded in darkness. Instantly, I grab the gun from my back, and take a wide step closer. It is by instinct, and old instinct.

"Shit. My Pip-Boy light broke."

"How is that possible?"

"Dunno. Just put it on for the first time in five years. Gonna have to tinker with it in Rivet City. You have a match or something?"

"Matches and lighters will do no good here. We are better off walking cautiously and slowly, straight. We will come to an opening soon enough."

"And if not?"

"We will manage."

I feel her back into me. The feel of her body against my own, even if for a brief moment, rips me up inside.

"Sorry."

She mutters before stepping forward. I want to tell her, the safest place for her, is still pressed against my chest. When she is near, I feel the youthfulness I once had, return to me. I feel, as if I could take on waves and hoards of armies. I feel, young, and strong. I choose instead, to keep my mouth shut, and let her step away from me. The boundaries have been laid out, and we are no longer the lovers we once were. I am quite sick of the boundaries, I miss her. Yet, I know it is for the best. The question I have to battle now, is if I should go back or not.

The silence and stillness is swiftly broken, by a sinister cackling. I hear Dez quickly snatch up her gun, and as my eyes adjust, I see her hold it tight.

"You hear that?"

She whispers, and I resist the urge to pull her closer to me. I am not unfamiliar with that cackle. It is one, I once knew in Underworld well.

"It is Gallo."

"Who?"

I cock my gun as the laughter gets closer. Gallo was one of the newcomers of Underworld, after I had been working for Ahzrukhal for an undetermined amount of years. He never enjoyed the company of others, and was kicked out in the end for acting more insane than Patchwork. Gallo never bothered me, but I knew his mind was falling apart. He would come in to the Ninth Circle sometimes, and talk to the wall beside me. The only time I had trouble with him, was when we supposedly forgot his birthday, and it made him drive into a frenzy. It has been years since I saw him, and can only imagine what it is he has become.

"Quiet."

I hear the laughter again, and it is right on top of us. The sound of a door clicking open, and a ball of white light catches my immediate attention. Luckily it is behind me, which means Dez is safe. I will not have to step in front of her, and let her know she is still my priority. I want her to think otherwise.

"You come here? You come here?"

His voice has remained the same, as many ghoul-voices do. It has a maniacal tone, and I cock my gun for safety.

"Who comes here? My home! You try to take _my _home?"

Gallo shines his light on us, and I feel Dez press against my back as I turn around. My heart pounds at her touch, at the situation. Gallo is merely one ghoul, and one that I never felt to be very dangerous, but Dez does not know this.

"Charon! Charon lives! And no longer with Ahzrukhal! Underworld, gone…gone, gone, gone…I laughed when I heard! _Laughed_! What are you doing in my home?"

I do not reply to Gallo. His light shifts to just behind me, and he spies Dez.

"Smoothskin! Smoothskin in my home! Unacceptable! Smoothskin with Charon! Rid yourself of the Smoothskin!"

Aiming my gun at Gallo, I take a single step towards him.

"Charon protects Smoothskin! Unacceptable!"

He pulls a small gun, and we fire at the same time. It is my mistake, for not shooting sooner. I do not like killing ghouls, because since the destruction of Underworld I feel our kind is few and far between, worse than before. Gallo falls, dead before he hits the ground, and the flashlight he used rolls towards us. My upper arm stings with a single bullet wound, and I quickly cover up the evidence of that as I replace my shotgun on my back.

"Who the hell was that guy? And how did he know you?"

"A former resident of Underworld. He was tossed out not too long before you came through."

"…Why the hell is he wearing a party hat?"

The way she asks this almost makes me want to laugh. Gallo truly did never forgive the citizens of Underworld for forgetting his birthday.

"Underworld forgot his birthday. He went mad for that."

Dez bursts out in laughter at my explanation. Her laughter, echoes and fills the tunnels. She walks over and picks the light up from the ground, a smile on her face. I have missed that smile.

"That's hilarious…ghouls…they crack me up. Hey, let's see what his house looks like."

"There are more pressing matters at hand."

I try to get her to continue on to Rivet City. My arm burns with pain, and wish to find radiation to heal it with.

"Rivet City won't be going anywhere anytime soon. If you don't want to come, then don't. But I'm going."

Which means I am forced to go with her. Reluctantly, and also hiding my arm, I follow her into the room. We walk up a small set of stairs, before coming into a dimly lit open area. There is Nuka Cola paraphernalia scattered about, and rotting corpses of feral ghouls in odd places. Dez looks around, and I am hoping is satisfied with this. She turns to me, shining the light into my eyes. I lift my hand to shield it.

"Hey why are you…"

Before I can answer Dez walks over. She takes my wounded arm and shines a light right where the hole resides.

"If you're trying to hide an injury, clean your hands off first, idiot."

There is no room for me to argue. Dez begins tearing up the place, looking for something if anything, to fix me up with. I watch her, and feel lower than the dirt that litters this earth. She still cares about me, the same if not more, as she did before. I notice this now, as she makes it her personal mission to find me aid. She does this, when I could not even be bothered to help with her wounded leg. I must be, someone terrible. Must have become as cold as I had hoped, if this is the difference in reaction times.

"Here, I found something."

I say nothing to her. There is nothing, I can say. She brings over some tweezers and gauze, and whilst she works with the flashlight in her mouth, I remain silent, and absorb all the pain. Proving herself to be the daughter of a doctor, Dez does not take time finding the bullet lodged within my arm. She retrieves it swiftly, and for the most part, painlessly. For the entire time she patches me up, I do not look at her. I cannot. It brings me, too much pain, to look at her right now.

"Don't try to hide it from me next time, okay? I'm good at this."

"I know."

She tosses the tweezers to the ground, as she ties the gauze in a small, tight knot. It is tight enough to stop the blood from flowing, and loose enough so that it is not uncomfortable. When she speaks, time stands still.

"Come on. I know you're itching to get out of my company."

I want to deny that. Want to tell her she is wrong with everything she has accused me of, but the words escape me. I cannot think, of any other place, I would want to be.

"Do you not wish to rest?"

I allow the words to escape from my mouth, before I can stop them. Dez looks back at me, her gun replaced on her hip, the light in her hand. There is a bed here, and I could easily remove the corpses.

"…No. I took a nap. I'll be fine."

I have no one to blame but myself, for the coldness she is beginning to display to me. I just wish, this pain I feel inside, was not present.

"What should I tell Zack when I get back to Megaton?"

Dez asks me as we continue on, light renewed down the tunnels.

"What do you mean?"

"I have to tell him something. About you not coming back, I mean. He sees this world with a lot of naïve innocence, so telling him you simply…stopped wanting to be with me, won't work. I'll have to think of something good."

"The truth is best. He will discover it in time."

I never stopped wanting to be near her. I wish, she could only see why I cannot. Yet like Zack, she also sees this world, in a naïve way.

"…I want to keep his innocence, Charon. I don't want him, ending up like me. I want to make sure, he really does think this world is great. Even though it's bad sometimes, it's still beautiful. People…don't see that."

No, but she does. Her ability, to still hope in this hopeless world, is admirable.


	22. Empty Fear Inside You

(Dez)

Charon and I make it out of the metro tunnels. By the time we do, it's dawn, and the sun is rising over the city ruins. We haven't said much to one another, because really there isn't much to say. I feel tired, but I don't want to sleep during the day. Call me crazy but the night…makes it easier. Before we get to Rivet City, I want to have one last talk with Charon. Like we used to, with a fire burning bright and a keen ear out for enemies. But, for now, I'll just enjoy the sunrise. I didn't see it often before, and now I've seen it twice in the same week. I wonder if Charon thinks it's just as beautiful as I do?

I guess the silence between us isn't so bad. It gives the slow easing into the future separation that I need in order to move on from this. I can't deal with abrupt things, being eased into it is much easier to deal with. At least, with things like this, anyways. Knowing once we get to Rivet City, it'll all be over, gives me time to mentally prepare myself. I would have liked to mentally prepare myself for the news that he was still alive, but, we can't always have what we want I guess.

Keeping my gaze to the ground ahead, I lead the way toward the metro tunnel that will take us into Anacostia Crossing. It isn't a whole long walk, and any Super Mutants around will still be sleeping. I'm not worried about enemies, really. I'm not worried about anything, except, saying goodbye to Charon. I wonder how we'll do it? Say goodbye, I mean. Will we shake hands, stiff and nervous like strangers? Or will we kiss like two heartbroken lovers in some tragic romance? I think out of the two, it will be the first option, if anything. Maybe if I'm lucky, Charon will at least give me a hug. I won't push my luck, though.

I remember a time, though, when Charon would follow me anywhere. When I wasn't a job to him, but someone he cared for. When he without question or argument, would lead the way on whatever path I chose to take, and fight against all the enemies. He'd save me, and even though sometimes reality got the better of me, I knew I didn't have to be scared. Because, I always knew in the end, Charon would come through. Now, I wouldn't bat an eyelash, if he simply walked away from it all. It's that, that really depresses me. Being alone out here again, isn't how I wanted it to be. I didn't mind being alone at first but when you've had a taste of company and companionship, you…you don't want it any other way.

"…Hey?"

I call out, feeling…feeling some small and old part of me, renewed.

"Hm?"

Charon replies, half-interested.

"Remember what a badass bitch I used to be? That was before you molded me."

"Molded you?"

I let Charon catch up with me, and together we keep a steady pace. He lights a cigarette, and carefully I slip it out of his hands. Without much thought or care, he lights another.

"Yeah. Before I met you, I was…badass, basically. I wasn't the saint Three Dog tried to sell me off as, and I was always alone. Back then, I was a lot more self-sufficient. Then, you came along with your brazen attitude and bad-boy mercenary act and I changed."

"Are you blaming me for your inconsistent personality?"

I shake my head, smiling a bit.

"No, I'm just saying, it's amazing how people can change each other so much. I think back to it all, a lot, and I mean…as cool as it seems, to be that heroine, it would have…ended in death."

"What makes you say that?"

I look at him, against the slowly rising sun, against the backdrop of the ruins. He looks, like he truly belongs here, in this world that we've come to accept and hate all at once.

"Badasses don't have happy endings, Charon. Just how cool people don't look at explosions. To make a good story short, and leave everyone wanting more, either someone has to die or something has to happen. I think if we never met, I would have died. Maybe not that night we did meet, but sometime after."

"I understand."

"At the same time, too, I'll admit…I wasn't happy. I thought I was back then, because young women think those things. They idolize that idea, when in reality, you're not happy. I was happy, when you came into my life. We had our ups and downs, but we had each other. At the end of the night, little things like just having someone give you the bigger piece of the food, matters more than being the hero."

Charon is silent, thinking my words over. He can't deny I'm right, no one can. And looking back at it all, I've made some serious changes.

"You did become the hero in the end, Dezbe. The people here do not realize it, but you have saved them, your friends, and myself from many things. Even, themselves."

"What a whole lot that got me."

Charon's right, though. I have a feeling, the nineteen-year-old girl I used to be, would want to kick my ass right now. She'd smack me around but, even she would have to nod her head in respect. I did save this place, somehow in its own twisted way, from no enemies but themselves. I wanted to be the anti-hero, the one who just did what they wanted to do and thought nothing of others. Yet, when others cared for me, I realized how I was acting. Realized, it was all wrong.

Still I owe nothing to the people here. Aside from friends and the ghouls who have helped me along the way, I can only count on one hand those I owe anything to. Yet I saved them. I helped them, and even though they have no idea, I am still the hero. I never wanted to be, but I became one. Maturity, can't be realized until much later. All the things I did, I never realized how noble they were, until months or even years later. Even knocking off the Brotherhood, was noble in its own way. And just because no one out here went out of their way to aid me, and most of them hate me, who was I to think I could simply mercilessly kill them? I'm still not a god, not someone to be admired or loved, but I am a hero. No, not a hero, a vigilante, who's actions just happened to be right.

"There are very few lives in this place, you have not touched, Dez. Perhaps instead of focusing on the bad aspects of your life, what you should look at are your accomplishments, and how you became a better person from them."

I inhale smoke and look up at Charon. We're not friends, but…there's still some level of care.

"Why should I look at things alone, that I couldn't do alone? I'm mature now, to admit, if it wasn't for you, none of this would have happened, in a good way. You saved my life in more ways than one."

"Is this your form of confessing?"

"Charon we don't have time like we use to. Figure we should bear our souls now before fading into the dust of the world forever and ever."

"Quite dramatic."

"I tapped into the nineteen-year-old inside."

"I noticed."

More smoke exhales from my mouth and nose. To be honest I don't really want to walk anymore. I want to sit, and talk to him about all of this. Talk and reflect on the changes I've made, he's made, and how…how maybe, in the end, we'll become bigger and stronger people from it. It hurts now, and it'll always hurt, but growing up simply means learning how to deal with that hurt. I'm in my thirties now, and still I'm the selfish Dezbe I once was. Sometimes, certain things, don't change. The things that stay the same, you realize at this point in your life, or at least in mine, are the ones that make you who you are.

I am still a mess. I'm selfish, bratty, and maybe a bit spoiled when it comes to some subjects. But, compare me now to the old me, and you'll see something. You'll see change, and growth, and the realization that the world does not revolve around you. I wish I could still think it did, but I know better now. Because of that, I can make wiser choices and plan things out differently. The nineteen-year-old Dez, would not under any circumstances, let Charon leave. Yet, the thirty-something year old Dez, understands that there is reason for saying goodbye. Even though…when I was nineteen, I promised I would always be there, even when he didn't want me to be. I would be there for him, as he was for me. And that was before, anything serious had happened. Maybe, thirty-something Dez, is strong enough to hold that promise.

"Do you think I was more likeable back then?"

Flicking some ash of my cigarette, I wait for Charon's answer. He sighs, smoking his as if it were his last.

"No. I think for the age, you were acceptable, just as for your age now, you are acceptable. Wiser, more mature, yet in some ways the same. It is the simple chart of growing up."

"When do I classify as a 'grown up', anyways? When I come to some great revelation, or when I stop running into things blindly and plan them out?"

"When you are able to ask yourself those questions, then you are an adult."

"…Well, rules were always meant to be broken, right?"

He gives me a sideways glance, knowing I'm just doing the regular 'up and down'. You know, childish, adult, and so on and so forth. Charon's right. He's always right. There's very few, if any, times he's been wrong. I guess with pushing three-hundred, a lot of maturity comes.

"I truly hope you do not plan on rearing a child alone."

It comes from left-field, but he's just poking at me. I like, how we can do that more subtly now, instead of blatantly calling each other names. It makes me feel smarter, and more adult-like.

"…Actually I was."

He turns his head so fast it nearly breaks off his neck. I stifle a smile, happy in the small common ground of speaking we've found ourselves on.

"I mean, I can't imagine settling down with someone. I know I said someone would love me, but would I love them? It's stupid to be hung up on a person this long, but I have a feeling, not many people connect like me and you. If I went with someone else, wouldn't that just be a metaphorical 'fuck you' to our memory?"

"I do not see it that way. Personally I see it as growing older and accepting you cannot have the things you once did, learning from those past experiences, and making the best out of new ones."

"…Yeah, not me. I just…do you want me to be honest here?"

I stop walking and get serious. Charon takes a few steps before noticing, and then turns around to face me. Thinking about my statement for a bit, Charon then slowly nods his head.

"I just can't see myself, loving someone else, nearly half as much as I love you. And I use the present-tense, because that love is still there. No amount of time, can erase it. I've tried, Charon believe me I did. Night after night, I would wish and beg for me to just wake up the next day, okay with it all. Or not wake up at all. If I got anything from living alone for five years, it's that if our love was anything normal, then grieving for you would not have lasted so long. I can't really explain it. I just sound dumb."

"I understand."

It's all he says before picking up the pace again and walking. I have no choice but to follow him. His words don't make me mad. Instead, I accept him and who he's become, just as he's always accepted me. Maybe this is his true form. Maybe, the Charon I knew was just a modified being, hoping to please everyone around him just as he was trained to be. I can't say, because I don't know, and really, there's too many possibilities that it hurts my mind just thinking of them. In the end, though, I'll have to accept everything. No matter the outcome.

We spend a good part of the day in the sun. For no particular reason, Charon says we should enjoy this place before we leave it. He says that…that since we won't see this place together again, we should make some lasting memories. Of course, he won't take his own advice. All he's been doing is idly watching me, as I search through piles of rubble, talk, and play shoot 'em up with some Raiders. I know he means well, and I know by him watching me he's…he's really just etching my memory into his mind. I know that makes no sense, but I know this probably will be the last time we're in this place together. I'll make it back to Megaton on my own. He'll go a different way, and that'll be that. Even though his demeanor has stayed the same as it was in the Ninth Circle, there's emotion in there. Call me crazy but, I can just tell.

Right now, I'm going through a Raider's dead body. There's some ammunition, some stimpaks and other things. Nothing unusual, really. Charon watches from afar, not paying attention. Just smoking a cigarette as if all is right and just in the world. I wish I could be as calm as him. Wish I was that content, with being alone. He's had a lifetime of practice, though. With being alone, I mean. Even though he was with people and employers, he was still alone in his mind. And when you're a machine like he was built to be, it's hard, to make and keep friends. I just wish, that kind of solitary attitude he's so comfortable with, I could be comfortable with, too.

Reaching into the last pocket on the Raider's pants, my fingertips graze something. Three little somethings, really. Wrapping my fingers around them, I pull them from the pocket. It's three white, oblong-shaped pills. Definitely not Buffout, and most certainly not aspirin. Aspirin is round, and small. Not thick and big like this. So I do the most logical thing. Figuring there's a shortage of pills, meaning hardly any, in the Capital Wasteland I don't see the harm in taking them. Nothing is worse than Buffout or Psycho, and generally speaking those pills were neither. Worse they can do is make me see the inside of my skull, and frankly even that wouldn't shock me at this point.

Walking back over to Charon I sigh and fold my arms.

"I'm wasting ammo on these reoccurring Raiders."

I tell him, which is true. In this area, there's tons of them. Like they flock to it or something. It's really pointless for us to stand here a while, doing basically nothing, and shooting anything that moves. I'm sure a time ago that was fun to me, but I'm thinking about saving what I have left for bullets in case of real danger. If only the old Dezbe were this smart.

"Should we move on then?"

"It was your idea to stay here."

"I thought you may have liked enjoying yourself for a time."

Charon shrugs nonchalantly, careless as always. I roll my eyes at him and follow him down towards the metro tunnels. We step over dead Raiders and I once-over them with my eyes to make sure there's nothing I really missed. Before we go down into them, I stop at the top of the steps, and look over the sky. It's mid-afternoon, and the sun is bright and hot. This place, is demolished and desolate, but at the same time, enemies lurk around every corner. It's my home. I feel bad, for staying away from it for so long.

"Are you coming?"

Charon calls to me, and I look down at him. I don't know, if either one of us is going to be okay at the end of this. If there's a happy ending, at the end of our lives. I can only hope for that. In the meantime, what I really wish is that…he'd just hold my hand. That he'd do that, and kiss me, and make me feel like the only one in the world. Even if it's just once, and never again, I wish he'd do that. Do it for me, if not himself. Do it for me, because I'm thinking maybe, when he's gone again, I'll be fine without him. I don't…I don't ever want myself, to be okay without him because…because I love him.

"Yeah, yeah I'm coming."

When we get to the lower platform, I start to feel funny. Dizzy, and a bit delayed with things. It almost feels like I'm turning into water. My breathing becomes slightly deeper, and things seem to sway around me. I feel disoriented, and my muscles…they feel…relaxed. Is it the pills taking effect? What kind were they, anyways? Stopping I look around at the bottom platform, where broken things took people to their destinations. My mind…it's never been this clear before. I've never felt so relaxed, so open, so easy to think and breathe and just _be_.

"Charon?"

I call out, my voice sounding whimsical and not my own. He looks back at me, as I lean forward.

"I…want to sit down."

So I do so without waiting for his response. The ground feels so comfortable, and I feel so…so tired. But not the kind, where I can sleep. I mean, I know I can close my eyes and fall into the deepest sleep possible right now, but staying awake and feeling this isn't so bad, either. Charon comes over to me, as I'm staring contently at an old trash can in a far corner.

"Dez?"

Blinking I look over at him as he crouches down.

"…What's…what's the point of this?"

He raises an eyebrow at my question, showing concern. Not a lot, but a little.

"What?"

"I mean, what's the point of…you taking me to Rivet City? Does it matter…really, if I can have kids? Because even if I could, I don't want them with someone who isn't you."

He puts the back of his hand on my forehead, and I lean into him. I support my upper body with his hand, as I close my eyes. He feels so warm, in this dank and moist atmosphere. I like it. I want…I want to fall asleep like this.

"Dez? Are you alright? Are you sick?"

I shake my head, not wanting to move or talk or really anything. I try to send him a telepathic message answering all the questions of the universe in precise logical explanations, but he doesn't receive it. Charon was never good, at receiving mind messages.

"I…found pills and…ate them…"

"What? Dez, open your eyes."

He grabs me by the shoulders, and I feel my head roll forward. For a minute I imagine it rolling off and away somewhere, and that makes me smile. Opening my eyes, I stare at him.

"I'm fine. Just…just rest with me just rest."

"You need a doctor. What pills were they?"

"I…dunno. It's okay…okay just…I feel so relaxed I want to lie down."

"That is probably the best idea. Lie down."

I do, and the ground feels so warm and so cool at the same time. I wish I could feel this relaxed all the time. Wish I could always escape like this, to a world of relaxation and peace. It's silent, in my mind, where usually it's always noisy and running on empty. Now…now it's just as relaxed as everything else.

Through blurred vision, I see Charon sit down and eye me cautiously. He folds his legs over his ankles, like the people in the vault history books. The ones who wore feathers, and were here first, before us. Somehow finding the strength, I move over to him and rest my head on his thigh. I feel his fingers brush stray strands of hair from my face, and sense him staring at me.

"Are you alright?"

He asks me, and I take a deep breath. I feel…as if all the guards I've ever put up are down. Like I'm this vulnerable child, but that's okay because I can't comprehend the emotional strain that comes with being vulnerable. The effects of the pills, coupled with Charon's presence, make everything perfectly okay. So perfect, that I wonder, if this is all a dream.

"Yeah…"

I say airily. My hands grip the leather pants he wears, in a small act of slight desperation and want. Not for sex, but for companionship. I'm scared to talk, because I'm scared of what will come from my mouth. I'm scared, of admitting things.

"…Why…why don't you love me anymore…Charon?"

I feel myself slipping in and out of a sleep-like state. My legs and entire body is pleasurably numb. Charon takes a breath in, and I feel his heart even though my head is on his thigh. I've never been so in-tune with the world, and so detached from it at the same time.

"You probably took some pre-war form of painkillers. I suggest sleeping it off. You will be fine when you wake up."

"…Charon…tell me…tell me why you don't love me? I don't…want to force this…if you…don't want to be with me, then leave. Then…then I'll go because…as much as I want to be with you…I won't…I won't put you through it. I'll do…I'll do anything for you…"

I open my eyes and look up at him. At his emotionless face, at his mouth that won't utter an answer.

"I…I'm scared…I don't…I don't want to be alone."

But I won't be alone…because right now, Charon's beside me. Charon? Why don't you love me anymore?


	23. A Little Hole Inside Your Heart

(Charon)

I stare down at her, as she stares back up at me. Her head rests on my thigh, calm and peaceful. Her chest raises with each deep breath she takes, and a thin layer of cool sweat masks her face. She asks me an impossible question. One, that I cannot think of ever answering. I refuse to lie, and hurt her by saying I do not love her. And yet, I refuse to give her hope, and tell her I still do.

We sit in silence, in darkness with no light around us. There is light, some light, emitting from the nearby tunnels, but nothing to rely on. Taking my shotgun off my back, I lie it beside me in the momentary silence. Dez never once takes her eyes off of me, and her heavy breathing echoes all around. The pressure of her head on my leg, although it does not bother me, I wish to remove it. Nothing good, can come from this situation.

"I wish to lie down, could you remove your head?"

Blinking in response, she places a shaky palm on the ground and tries to lift herself. I grab her shoulders and help, while stretching my legs out in front of me. Gently, I lie her down with her back to me, and then lie down myself. With her in this state, we will not make Rivet City by night, which is what I hoped to do.

"Charon?"

She asks, her voice full of breath and air. I make no response, simply because I wish to rest and not deal with this. It was her foolishness, that caused this. I will have no part in it.

"…Tell me why you don't love me anymore?"

She is scared, I can hear it in her voice. Still, I make no notion or move to comfort her or offer comfort. Instead, I remain quiet and stiff.

"…I…don't want…this anymore…I don't…"

"You need to rest. If you let the sleep come to you, when you wake you will feel better."

"…want…don't want this. Don't want…to be here…I want to go home I don't…care if I can have kids…because it won't be…with you because…you don't love me. It's okay…because it doesn't hurt anymore…it's…all going to be okay…"

I am growing concerned. She talks as if an impending death is coming and she knows it. I do not know how many of these pills she took, nor do I even know what they were. I can only assume they were some form of painkillers, as the sleepiness and relaxation she is feeling can only be caused by that. Even if it has been two-hundred years, I would not doubt the survival of pre-war medications. There is very little I would doubt these days. More worrying to me, though, is I do not suspect Dez has had much exposure to pre-war medications, and wonder if sleeping is the best option for myself. If we both sleep, then who will watch over her? It should no longer be my concern or worry and yet…yet while she is with me, she is still my first priority.

"…Home…I want…to go home…"

It is only now I realize she has been talking this entire time. If I do not interject her then I have a feeling she will talk all night. At least then I will know she survived.

"When you wake, you can head home."

"But you…you won't…take me…"

"Go to sleep. Rest. You will feel better when you wake."

I glance over at her, and in the dim light, I grow worrisome. Even more, than I was before. Her skin looks ghostly pale, her eyes are narrow slits, and her breath is deep and shallow. This requires more of my attention than I have been giving it.

"Dez, you need to see a doctor."

She blinks slowly at me, as I reach for my shotgun. Placing it on my back I stand, and her eyes never leave me.

"Come on, stand up."

"…I…I don't…want to I'm so…comfy right here…just go…without me."

"I am not going to find a doctor and telling him he needs to find the patient. Lets go, stand up it is not difficult."

I pull her arm, and her body becomes limp. I sense, she is not playing a game. That this is a serious matter. The relaxation she is feeling, can prove to be dangerous.

"How many pills?"

I ask, calm, as I bend down to position her body in my arms. Although I can no longer see us being together again, it does not mean I do not care for her. It does not mean, I do not still love her. It does not mean, I can leave her here, to fall victim to whatever enemy comes this way.

"…Three…"

Getting her into a position I can carry for the time it will take us to arrive at Rivet City, I stand up. Her head rests in the crook of my right elbow, while her knees bend with my left. I pull her closer, for both her comfort and safety. Although this sounds conceited it is not. Dez has always found a solace pressing herself against me. In her state, I hope it still brings her comfort, and she can stay awake. For now, I can only truly rely on her talking to me, to know that she is still awake.

"What did they look like?"

This I ask for both personal knowledge, and to keep her talking. Stepping into the tunnels, I begin to navigate them based only on memory and knowing. If I do not know this land by now, I will be ashamed.

"A-am…I in…trouble?"

"No, I would just like to know so that I can help you."

"I…don't want…help I feel good."

Glancing down at her as I walk, I see her eyes are closed. She has her face pressed to my chest, and is still breathing shallow. If I do not get to Rivet City within due time, I do not know what will happen. Quickening my pace, I think of things to say in order to gain a response. Asking about the pills she took seems to have little or no interest to her, and I can see why. From the depths of my mind, I start to remember her interests, obsessions, likes and dislikes. The list of things she likes falls short, while her dislikes can continue on and on. Upsetting her would not be in her best interest.

"I have forgotten something important, Dez. Would you mind reminding me?"

"What?"

She sounds weaker by the moment. I know soon enough, even if she does not want to sleep, she will. The pills will win her over, just as any drug eventually does.

"Remind me, how it is you came to be in Underworld."

"It's…too long…I don't…feel like it."

"Then tell me what you plan to do upon hearing the news you can birth children."

"…Nothing…because…you won't be there…with me."

"Will you return to Megaton?"

I am no longer even paying attention to what I am asking, simply letting the words flow from my mouth and create a sentence of that. Although outside I am calm, inside I am bubbling with old and new emotions and anticipations coupled with urgencies. My feet tread heavily on the concrete as I walk nearest the wall to my left, hoping soon to find the turnoff to Anacostia Crossing. Once I emerge from here, I know if she is still awake, she will be safe. Barrows will take care of her, and I trust his medical knowledge. We have a history. He knows me, and knows Dez, and he is not some strange quack wandering the Wasteland. Hopefully he has the tools necessary to aid Dez.

"Yeah…yeah…I will."

"That is good to hear. You should be safe there, and you can regain your strength and knowledge of the Capital Wasteland."

"…Will…will you visit…me sometime?"

Visit? I had not thought of that. What good would it do any of us, though? I know Gob and Zack will be happy just the same to see me, but if I am not with Dezbe, and all we have known is the tension of sexual and emotional desires, then how can we build a friendship? Would it not just cause us pain, and the feelings still exist? I cannot imagine dropping by Megaton, and staying a few days on friendly terms with her such as she is with Gob. It seems more of an insult to our time together than her finding someone else. And perhaps she did and I dropped by to visit, then what? I know, the amount of jealousy I would feel, at seeing another man beside her. Because I would know I was not able to be that man.

"There would be little point in me visiting you as it would be empty and unfulfilling. But I will if you wish."

"…It…it would make me smile."

"Toy with that thought for a bit, when you are well we can talk about it."

I feel her sigh as I find the turn that will lead to Rivet City. I am not jogging, but I am hurried. Beneath her vault suit she feels cold and clammy, and it does not sit well with me.

"I miss you."

She tells me, as I try to navigate, only half listening.

"You have told me before."

"I miss us."

"You have also told me this."

"But it's okay because…Charon…Charon…"

Alarmed, I look down at her as I walk, her body grows a bit heavier. I do not know why. Her eyes roll around in her head, and they are only just hardly slits. I pause for a moment, to take in what may be happening.

"Stay with me, Dezbe. Do not fall asleep."

Even though my voice is calm and monotone as it was so many years before, I myself am anything but. The last thing I wish to see while in the Capital Wasteland, is the woman I love dying from some unknown pill taken in stupidity. She should have asked me, before swallowing them.

"…but…but it…doesn't hurt…all the hurt…Charon it's…it's gone…don't you feel it?"

Regaining myself I begin to move. I jog now, through the tunnels, halls, and doors, not wanting to waste any time.

"No, tell me about it."

"…Charon it's…it's all gone…I feel so free…Charon it's beautiful I can…I can breathe again…it…it's like…it never was there…"

"I do not feel it yet Dezbe perhaps you need to describe it better."

"No…no it's…it'll be okay…for you, too. Because…I can feel it…I don't…feel anything…anymore."

She is starting to scare me. I almost trip on a small piece of cracked concrete, but I am able to steady myself and Dezbe. We cannot be far from the crossing, only a few miles at best. If I can think of something to keep her awake, for just a little bit longer, then I know she will be safe. She can sleep all she wants, so long as Rivet City is in my view. Once in the care of Barrows I know she will survive this. Until then, it is a tough call.

"Does it mean you no longer feel anything for me?"

"What?"

"If you feel nothing, then you no longer care for me."

I play a card I wish I did not even own. I try to guilt her, into staying awake, into talking. I hate myself for it.

"…No…no not true…I love you."

"But you claim to feel nothing and therefore you no longer love me. I see how it is with you, Dezbe. Simply toss me aside once a better emotion comes along."

Childish and immature is what I am being, but I cannot think of any other way, to keep her awake.

"…w-why are…you running?"

She asks me, avoiding my statement altogether. I am running now. Running and navigating out of the tunnels. The sooner I get to the city, the sooner she will receive treatment. I do not want to think, of what may happen if I fail at getting there. I fear, telling her she is in danger.

"To get to Rivet City quicker."

I respond, breathless. Coming to the platform, I skip steps as I run upwards. Getting out from this darkness, and seeing the outside might help her. Might give her energy to stay awake.

Emerging from the tunnels, I take a deep breath of fresh air in. I'm not as exhausted as I thought I would be. In front of me, the massive warship that is Rivet City lights up the dusk sky. Never, did I think I would be so relieved, to see this place.

"…are we…there?"

Dez asks, growing weaker by the minute. I scold myself mentally for allowing myself to delay. Picking up my feet, I force myself to move, and not be distracted by the city I have not seen in so long. Reminding myself, as I walk, that it has been, and always will be, Rivet City. It will not change or move, and I should not spend time looking at things I have seen a million times before.

"Almost."

I reply to her, as I watch the mercenaries that surround and guard the structure that leads to the bridge. Some I recognize from years ago, others are new, and inexperienced.

"Can…can I rest now?"

I look down at her. Her eyes are not even open, her breath is shallow, and yet I know she is awake. Waiting for my response, patient, knowing I want her awake. Being so close, to safety, I do not see the harm in allowing her to rest.

"Yes."

Before the word finishes from my lips, Dez lets herself fall into a slumber deeper than one I am sure she has ever had before. In my arms, I feel her grow a bit heavy, with the relaxation of her muscles taking place. Silently, I watch her, and I continue on into Rivet City.

Opening the door to the medical bay, I see Dr. Barrows and Nurse Graves. A young human is with them, as they gather around a terminal. Barrows picks his head up, looking at me.

"Help her."

I say as I place Dez on the medical bed. There is no time for formal introductions, for talk of the time lapsed. I hope, they understand this. Nurse Graves walks over to her, and places a hand on her neck to feel a pulse. Thankfully, Barrows knows I am here for help, and not anything else.

"What happened?"

"Her pulse is low. Dangerously low. Doctor we need to get an IV in her and begin monitoring."

"Not until we know what happened."

The three of them look at me.

"She took pills, I am not sure what they were. Perhaps a pre-war form of painkillers, but certainly nothing like Buffout."

Barrows nods and they begin to hook things up to Dez. One of them, being a heart monitor. It is low, and this sends Graves and Barrows into a slight panic.

"We have to pump her stomach. Get that IV in!"

I watch in the background, as Graves grabs tubing and assorted medical supplies while Barrows takes them from her. I watch as the human nurse pricks Dez's arm with a needle, and then takes it out again. She missed the vein. The nurse does it again, missing once more. She's hurting her. She's hurting her. I see from the corner of my eye Barrows put a plastic wedge in Dez's mouth, before inserting a long and clear tube. The human nurse misses her vein once again. Her nervousness under the stress is noticeable. I lose myself.

"Stop it!"

I say, grabbing at the nurse. She looks at me with wide eyes as I tear the needle from her arm and pin her against the wall. This rage…this anger where did it come from?

"Charon!"

Barrows yells as I hold the needle to the nurse's face. Yet I ignore him, I ignore him, because right now I cannot think of anything else.

"If you can't find the vein I'll show you myself!"

I am ready to plunge the needle into her. Ready to draw out her own blood, and show her the pain she is causing Dez. Barrows grabs my wrist, the one holding the needle, and pries it from my hand.

"Charon! Let her go! We have more serious matters!"

"She _hurt_ her!"

I have not been this angry, in such a long time. I cannot think, I cannot stop myself. I just react.

"She is new and inexperienced! Let her go!"

Holding the nurse against the wall, I realize how I no longer discriminate. How even though this is a woman looking at me with pure fear in her eyes, shaking beneath my hands and fingers, cowering at the sight of me, I do not care. I want to hurt her, just the same. The holes and bruises on Dez's arm are apparent of this woman's shortcomings. If she did not know, she should not have tried.

"Dezbe is not a specimen to practice on!"

I shout over the beeping machines, over the noise of Nurse Graves pumping Dez's stomach fresh and clean. Nothing, right now, matters. Nothing, can seem to stop this rage that bubbles and festers inside of me. My grip on the human tightens, and she utters a slight squeal in pain. I do not stop.

"Charon! Let her go!"

"She should not be using a living person for her own practice."

"She won't be living for very long if you don't stop now and let me get back to treating her."

The threat Barrows gives breaks the rage that makes me hold up the nurse. After five years, Dezbe still is my priority. I protect her, from dangers even against my will. Against, all I thought I built up over the years. Slowly, I release the nurse, and once free she leaves the room in a hurry. I look at Barrows, and release the needle into his hand.

"Good."

He throws it away and takes a fresh one. In Dez's other arm, he finds a vein and draws blood before hooking up an IV. Graves finishes pumping her stomach, and we watch the monitors that tell us of her vital signs.

"I have to run tests, but we've done all we can for now. I suggest you get rest."

"Will she make it?"

I ask Barrows, as Graves takes the sample of blood into another room. It is just me and Barrows, and a sleeping Dez. Machines beep, and show numbers. I do not know what they mean, I was not trained in this field. I only know how to tend to wounds, not anything expertise as doctors know.

"It's up to her. If she wants to live, she will. You know, Charon, it's been a long time since I've seen you two. Now, you barge in here like the devil is chasing you and demand my help."

"It is not a doctors code to turn away those in need."

"No, it's not you're right. I just wonder what I owe this random encounter."

"Dez's stupidity."

I say as I take the gun from my back and lean it against the wall. Barrows gets a laugh out of this. I do not see what is so funny.

"You can relax now. Her stomach is pumped, she has medicine, she needs rest now."

"You said if she wants to live, she will. What do you mean by that?"

I am genuinely curious. Barrows gives a deep sigh, before answering me. He wipes his hand over his tired face, rubbing his eyes.

"At this point it's based on willpower. If Dez finds reason enough to fight to live, then she will. If not, then…well, we have an incinerator below deck."

It does not sit well, to hear him talk of her as if she is another patient. He knows, or rather should, the importance of her. Should put her at top priority, as I have. But I cannot expect others, to do as I have. Even after all these years, I can no longer deny, there is a fire that burns for her still inside of me.

"…I see."

I tell him, and sit down in a nearby chair. Barrows yawns, looking at Dez as if it has been decades since he last saw us. I refuse to believe that much time has passed.

"Zack told me you two had gone separate ways. To be honest I thought you were dead."

"Everyone did."

"You can see why I'm a bit shocked to find you in my office now, can't you?"

"Yes. I understand it is unexpected."

"Where've you two been all this time?"

I shrug, not wanting to speak or share with him personal lives.

"Around. We only just met again."

"Right well, I suggest you take some time and rest. Like I said there's nothing more we can do. I'll be back in the morning to check on her, and hopefully things will be well. Nurse Graves will be in periodically to keep an eye out."

I say nothing to him, as he leaves me alone with Dez. When the door shuts behind him, I find my eyes settling nervously on the body on the bed. Slowly, and barely noticeable, her chest rises and sinks with shallow breaths. A reason to live? I know Dezbe well enough to know, that she feels there is very little to live for. That if she can, she will fight opening her eyes even if her body recovers on its own.

Pushing such thoughts from my mind, I remove my armor and set it down beside my gun. Picking up my gun, I rest it in my lap, aiming it at the door. I trust Barrows and Graves, because they knows us and we know them. They will do all they can to ensure Dez's survival, just as they have tonight. I understand, there is very little they can do at this instance. I wish, there was more I could do. Relaxing my head against the wall, I allow myself to rest. To fall into a dark and dreamless slumber. I keep one eye open, to dangers, and for someone wanting to tamper with things they should know, to leave well enough alone.

I do not know how much time passes, before the noise of the door opening rouses me. I am about to aim my gun, when I notice it is only Graves.

"Did I wake you?"

She asks as she steps in, shutting the steel door behind her.

"No."

I watch her cautiously take down notes while she looks at the numbers and letters on the monitors that watch Dez. There is no danger with Graves, but I cannot help but be on edge.

"It's been a long time, Charon. It's good to see you well, but unfortunate for the circumstances that brought you here."

"Hm."

I have nothing to say to her. Graves sets down the clipboard and brushes hair from Dez's face. I have always respected Graves, for not having discrimination against humans. It is hard to do, when most of them discriminate us.

"I'm sure Dez will be fine after she rests. She has you, and sometimes that's enough for a woman to live."

"We are no longer in a romantic relationship."

Graves looks at me, surprised after all the years of Dez and I being together, that now it is suddenly over. I can tell by the look on her face, she wants me to continue, to tell her more. Getting up I sigh, and look at the sleeping Dez. Around Graves, I feel comfortable, and at ease. I could possibly tell her anything.

"Events happened that parted us for five years or so. She returned to me, asking to begin where we left off. I denied her that, and instead agreed to bring her here. She has not been in the Capital Wasteland, and her survival skills have rusted. She wanted to come here, to see if after all the abuse she put her body through, if it was still possible for her to bear children. I suppose I kept my end of the deal, and am no longer needed here."

I say it calmly, but I am not calm. Over this, I am hurting, yet I know I cannot return to her. I would only perhaps hurt her, leave again even. Risking that is not in my agenda.

"Charon, even if you don't want to be with her, you still love her. If not you wouldn't have brought her here like you did."

"I never said I no longer cared for her. You have to understand five years have passed, and I am no longer the same person she once loved. Even if she begs me to return to her, I cannot see myself fit enough to do so. It puzzles me, why she claims to still love me, even though I have been so cold and distant."

To my surprise, Graves laughs as she begins to clean up the medical room. I watch her, leaning against a wall, no longer being able to look at Dez.

"A woman's heart is deeper than a man can understand, Charon. Even if you are not the same, she loves you the same. Women who love men as deeply as she loves you, can rarely let go, despite time and distance. Actually it's refreshing to see this. As a woman I almost lost hope in love."

"I know she loves me, Graves. I also know, that in the end it will only hurt her. Hurt her more, rather, if I choose to go back. I cannot allow myself to…simply disregard what I may do."

"Or what you may not do. Charon, when a woman is in love, she will do most anything for the man in question. Just thinking of him, will brighten her day, and liven her up. It is only…when the man takes himself out of the picture entirely does the pain truly hurt."

"She asked me to visit her in Megaton. I do not see the point, because I feel it would only hurt her."

"Being in her life, regardless of status, will make her happy."

"And you know this how?"

"I'm a woman, Charon. I was in love once, and it didn't matter to me, if that man loved me back. Just being his friend, was enough for me. Being able to do whatever I could, to make him smile, was enough. For most, it is."

I glance over at Dez. I cannot bear to look at her for very long, and force myself to find something else to focus on.

"I would only end up hurting her, if I chose to return to her side. I do not believe we can rekindle what we once had. Time has proved to go against us."

Looking over at Graves, she gives me a small smirk. I do not see anything worth smiling about. I have not smiled, in such a long time.

"You say that, but you don't know it. Losing you from her life altogether, would hurt her more than simply seeing you once or twice a year."

Not wanting to discuss this further, I change the subject.

"How does it look for her? Will she wake?"

"She'll wake if she wants to. Either way, we won't know much of anything else until tomorrow. That is, if she survives until then."

"I had hoped to hear something different."

Graves shrugs, placing her clipboard in a desk drawer.

"I'll be back in a few hours. For now, get some rest. There's little anyone can do."

She leaves without saying anything else. Again, I am alone with her. Dezbe, as she hangs on to life, if she is even trying to live. Walking over to her bed, I stare down at her. At one time, I thought I could save her from anything. I wanted, to save her from everything, even if it sent my damned soul to hell. It feels like it has been longer than just five years. With all the two of us have gone through on our separate walks of life, it feels like decades since the day that tore us apart.

I would have given her anything. She was the reason I changed. The reason, for me to fight against all I was trained to do and believe. The purpose, for feeling the pesky emotions I taught myself to feel. Over and over, I trusted her and protected her. Nothing could hurt her with me, she was so safe so long ago. The only thing I failed to protect her from, was myself. I know, that in the life we once led together, I made her feel like the only being in the universe. I am also aware of what that meant to her, even before our romance began. At night, when I would feel her press against my body as we slept out beneath a starry sky, I knew me just being there meant the world to her.

Gripping the edge of the bed, I know what I can say to bring her back. I also know, I am not man enough to follow through with the promise I want to give. Have I not done enough? Caused her enough pain and suffering? Is it not time for her, to move on from me and find another? I know no one will love me as much as she does, and yet…yet I cannot return that love. Would anyone else in this world, return to the person they once thought hung the moon, knowing only in the end it would bring them pain? My body is tired, my mind is exhausted, and I know now after living for so long, I have little time. Little time to spend in the company of those I care for. I am only here, on borrowed time at this point.

It is near impossible, for me to allow her back into my life, to change my own emotions and rattle me like a caged bird…if I know I will simply leave her again. Shaking my head, I let go of the bed she lays on, and leave the medical bay. I need to smoke a cigarette, and think about things. I do not wish to smoke in the room with her, and possibly ruin the workings of the machines she is plugged into.

Coming to the flight deck of Rivet City, I light a cigarette and stare out at the starry night sky. Stare out at the ruins of the city in the dark distance, at the glistening water below. Dead and leafless trees line the dirt and sand of the Capital Wasteland, while guards and caravans walk around below. This place, continues on. It does not matter, if Dez or myself is alive, this world will carry on without us. It has done so, for five years strong without either one of us present in it. And yet, yet I feel she plays such a vital part. A part in their lives, in their existence, in everything that matters. If it was not for her sacrifice, for her choices heroic in her mind or not, this land…this land would not be as it is right now. I only wish, she knew this. Wish, that this alone, could be her reason for wanting to live, and live until a ripe old age.

Exhaling smoke, I allow myself to remember. Remember, how I used to think her lips tasted of the most bitter wine, and her breath felt like winter against my cold face. As if I was standing naked in a blizzard, and the only warmth I had or needed, was her whispering my name. My hands, would slightly shake each time she came near me. Each time she would undress, and allow me to fall into her, to submit and overpower her. Her dark eyes…were once bright, brimming with pools of deep emotion and complex thought. Thoughts, that she would never speak, unknowing how to word them, but would show in small thing she did. Why, was it always hard for me to tell her the most simple things? Why was it so difficult for me back then, to say things to her that I knew needed to be said? Hard, to show her and tell her, how much I love her? Why is it so hard now?

During these past years, I have often wondered, if never meeting her would have been best. I would have continued on, without knowing what it was exactly I was missing by not feeling. I know…I know that both of our existences, would be empty. That I would have the constant feel, of missing something important. Knowing it, in my gut, but never really acknowledging the truth of how important it is. And yet…I feel…meeting her was still the best thing to ever happen to me, despite the pain, and despite where it brings me to now.

I throw my finished cigarette off the edge of the flight deck. Instead of returning, I stand and enjoy the view. Very few things, have given me enjoyment. I want to see the world Dez saved, the land she knows is hers, and the place where we shared our first kiss. Below deck, in a random room, Dez and I kissed for the first time, when she was nineteen. I wonder, if perhaps, in her state…she remembers this as I do.

A door opens, and I glance over to see who it is. Simply Graves. How did she know I was up here? I watch her come over to me, knowing that she came here to see me. There would be no other reason.

"Charon?"

I look at her, and nod in acknowledgement.

"You still love her, don't you?"

"…Yes. I do."

"Then maybe, if she hears that, tonight won't be so risky for her."

"Hearing it will bring her false hope. I cannot do that."

Graves lights a cigarette. I would light another, but I just had one and do not crave it.

"False hope for what?"

"She may think we could fix things. I cannot…cannot bring myself to promise something I may not keep."

"Stupid boy. Charon, hearing you love her, I'm sure won't give false hope. It may even, help her."

"You do not know her as I do. She will think we can begin again."

"You may not even know her anymore. It's been a long time, hasn't it? If you've changed, she may have, too."

Graves does speak something intriguing. Still, with her option, there is a chance. A chance that Dez will still believe, my simple words could fix things. That there is a chance for us. I cannot…cannot let her be happy, only to leave her.

"Is there a reason you think you'll leave?"

Graves asks me, and for the first time since the war…I wish I could see a dove.

"I think I may be dying."

"Dying? What makes you think that? You're in great health."

"I feel tired. I feel as if I truly am three-hundred and not simply by ghoul standards. My bones and muscles ache and pull after a fight, my mind is not as sharp, my reflexes and timing delayed. I have felt this way for a long time, but am only near certain now, it is because I am tired, and wish to lie down and rest."

"Then wouldn't you be happiest, resting with those you love around you?"

"Why are you being so adamant on fixing something that cannot be fixed?"

She takes a step towards me, gazing out at the same view I was enjoying moments before.

"Charon, don't act stupid. You know as well as I the impact Dez and yourself had on Underworld, the residents, and ghouls themselves. We recognize things better than the humans, because most of us here know Dezbe. Know of everything the two of you had to sacrifice to bring safety to this place. We're not stupid as a population. I'm trying to fix it, not because of what it symbolizes for ghouls, but because to see two people who I looked up to not together when they fought a literal war together, is heartbreaking."

"I see."

"Charon, understand because of the deeds you two did, a child was birthed who is _both_ ghoul and human. We have this freedom, although dangerous, because you and her so arrogantly saved the world. You gave the homeless a home in Tenpenny Tower, saved said child from death, gave everyone the choice between radiated and pure water. It's only fair I do this for you two in return."

"You cannot reunite a square peg with a round hole."

"No, but I can saw off the edges of a square peg and make him see how he's being stupid."

I almost smile, because for a moment, Graves sounds like Dezbe.

"Being with Dez, only to die, would…would kill her."

"Or, it would make peace. Knowing the man she loved, died with friends and her last words were 'I love you'. Then she can smile instead of cry, when she remembers you."

"How can you claim to know this?"

"Again, Charon I am a woman. We're all the same in the end."

"Women are complicated beings."

Graves shrugs and throws her cigarette down on the steel.

"No, we are simple. It's men who complicate us."

With that she walks away. She is right. I watch her walk towards the door, and vanish behind it. I cannot deny Graves the credit she deserves. For a doctor of medicine, she understands the human nature very well. I find myself reflecting on something utterly apparent. Wasting no more time, I chase after Graves. She is not far down the steps, by the time I open the door and call her name.

"Nurse Graves!"

She looks up at me, raising an eyebrow.

"Dezbe…Dezbe wanted to come here to know if she could have children."

Graves smiles at me, a warm smile, that I have not seen in such a long time.

"I'll run the tests. If you're interested about the sterilization of ghouls situation, talk to Barrows. He has something. But only if you're interested."

The tone is knowing and hoping all at once. Breathless, and light without the top half of my armor, I rest against the railings of the steps. Graves soon vanishes beneath the floors, and soon all I hear is the sounds of her shoes tapping against the metal. Resting my forearms on the rails, I run my hand over my face. Do I want this? Do I want…do I want to go to the medical bay, and say the words I know will wake her? Will make her come to life? Do I want…to risk causing her pain in hopes that Graves is right? What I really must ask…is do I really…love her just as I did so many years ago, or is it the memory, that I love?


	24. So Cold

I return to the medical bay, to a team of people. Nurse Graves and Doctor Barrows are among the people, but the others, are humans I do not recognize.

"What happened?"

I ask, again my voice calm while inside I am not. Barrows turns around, and gives a smile that is supposed to be cheery if not reassuring.

"I'm teaching some students here about being a doctor. I called them in to show them how the machines work and how you hook them up since we don't often get to use them."

Students? He is using Dezbe as a project? I expected better than this from him.

"Dezbe is not a specimen for study."

"She's not. It's the monitors they're looking at."

"She needs rest, Barrows. Not…the prying eyes of..._them_."

"She can't tell if they're here or not."

Graves comes over, worried and concerned. I wonder how she knows this upsets me, seeing as how I've remained calm.

"Doctor maybe Charon is right. After all we can place a student to one of the machines. It's harmless. Let the sleeping girl rest."

I nod in thanks to Graves, as Barrows agrees. Everyone soon flushes out, leaving only the three of us.

"Nurse Graves said Dez wanted to know if she was fertile."

Barrows asks me, as I push past him and reclaim my position in the chair against the wall.

"Yes, that is true."

"And are you interested in this as well?"

It is a heavy question. I have yet to decide if I can even tell Dezbe I still love her, let alone admit to a near-stranger if I want children with her. Instead of answering, I stay silent. I had hoped to come here, and be alone. I did not, want a hoard of people, and an interrogation.

"Well, if you are there is a way. A pill, really. You take the pill and wait twenty-four hours. After that you have another twenty-four hours in which your body is making fruitful sperm unharmed by the radiation. Mind you I haven't made this pill perfect so I'll give it once, but if the woman is fertile, hell you can have a kid. It'll help the ghouls, since most ghoulettes can bear children. The younger ones, anyways."

"You have a lot of time to research all of this, Barrows. Between reversing the ghoulification process and now allowing the bearing of children."

"We decided instead of creating a painless way to reverse ghoulification, it was better if we simply prolonged it and made an antidote for it. Soon more and more kids will be like Zack. It's all thanks to him. You never did tell me why you returned to your ghoul form. Something went wrong?"

I glare at him, not wanting to answer because as of right now it is unimportant. The research was discarded, so what does it have to do with me now? Nothing. He is here wasting time, if he is not helping Dez. I see no point in offering knowledge on things I do not care for. Simply leave me be with Dezbe. I have things I must think about, and the night is very young.

"I see you don't want to talk about it. Alright. Maybe now I can get rest."

He should have stayed asleep, instead of waking with the bright idea to come and bring students into where a patient needs rest. He and Graves leave the medical bay, and I wait until I can no longer hear their footsteps to go over and stand beside Dez's bed.

Staring down at her, I contemplate everything I should do, want to do, and feel is best. All of them are different. I should tell her I care and love her, to give her sleeping self hope and the desire to live. I want, to tell her I love her, sweep her in my arms when she wakes, and spend the rest of my life making up all the times I did her wrong and upset her. I feel it is best if I walk away, and never again reenter her life. Never let her come into mine. Leave the Capital Wasteland altogether, in order to spare her pain.

There is no denying, that I still love her. Despite the unseen changes we have both made, I love her. She understands. She knows, what it is like to be the villain. To be hated, by those you do not know. To be fated to do not what you want, but what others want you to do. To only speak, what others want to hear, and never the truth. I know if we are together, we will never live the life we want for long. There will always be something to fight, others or even ourselves. But would I want to live this life alone, or with someone who understands beside me?

Still, I love her enough, to spare the pain I know will eventually come with being with her. Looking at her sleeping body, her hair matted to her face, and the slight fluttering of her eyelids…I wonder if perhaps, she will be close behind. If there is no one beside me, when it is my time, if she will follow me. I do not doubt, that there is some form of afterlife. Will I meet her there? Will it be, the only time the two of us can feel uninterrupted and eternal bliss that we could not achieve in life?

She would beg me to stay with her. Beg me, as I would ask her to hang on to a thread of life. If one of us was injured, hurt, near death or something of the sort, the other…the other would do all they could to save their life. Is it fate, that brought us together in the beginning, and continues to reunite us now? I cannot think of any other people, so haunted and blessed with another as I am with her. As…she is with me.

My hands tighten around the rails of the bed, to keep her from rolling off. I remember times, that speaking of, would make us both smile.

"Dez…can you hear me? Maybe you can, either way…perhaps you'd like to hear some things. Things that might make you, want to wake up tomorrow."

I pull over the chair I sat in earlier, and place it close to the bed. Sitting down, I put my hands in my lap, as I stare at her small, pale and white hand. Her long, slim fingers are curved slightly upwards. I refrain from filling the spaces between her fingers with my own.

"You asked me earlier today, if I remembered what a badass you once were. I remember, Dez, as vividly as you. I also…remember that said badass threw themselves off a cliff that same night, even though it was against the code of being the anti-hero. I saved you though, as I always have. By now I suppose it is obvious, that no matter what we cannot stay away from one another for very long. Perhaps it is fate, though I have never believed in such things. Still, I cannot think of any other way we could find one another like this, time after time."

Caving in, I slip my hand through the bars, and wrap my hand around hers.

"…You also asked…why I no longer loved you. You asked me, and said you were…scared. I…I want to tell you…"

Words escape me. For unknown reasons, I cannot say it.

"…that you never have to be scared. As long…as long as I am with you, you do not need to fear anything. I will not let anything happen to you."

I cannot take the burden and shame I feel for not being able to admit it, when it truly counted. Perhaps it is a sign that I am not man enough. That I do not deserve to stand by her side as I once did. Releasing my hand from hers, I stand up and pace the room, resisting the urge to trash everything.

"Charon?"

I had not noticed Nurse Graves poking her head in. I hope she did not hear.

"What is it now?"

I demand, in no mood for talks or company.

"The scientists have made some fireworks. They're launching them tonight, soon, off of the flight deck. I thought maybe you'd want to come?"

"I see nothing worth celebrating. Aside from that, the scientists should be worrying about more important matters, than creating petty means of entertainment?"

"I'll take that as a 'no'."

Graves leaves me alone after that. She closes the door, and I hear her walking away.

"What am I going to accomplish, if every time I wish to speak, I am interrupted?"

I say, to no one in particular. It is simply to break the silence that suddenly fell upon the room. Looking down at Dezbe, I sigh loudly. The easiest thing for me to do right now, is also the hardest. I cannot seem to admit something, that I had no problem saying before. Another solution is that I could just simply leave. As I said before, all I promised Dez was that I would bring her to Rivet City, and I have done so. Holding up my end of the bargain was easy. Yet I cannot walk away. Then I would never know, if she lived through this night or not. I have done enough horrible things in my life and in my past, I do not think I can handle much more.

Sitting back down in my chair beside the bed, I stare at Dez. She looks like she is at peace, and suddenly, I feel so much guilt. Guilt, for things that I let her believe, for five years. It was me, who put her through so much pain. Pain, she did nothing to deserve. Mustering up emotional strength that I have not had to call on in five years, I can only hope what I have to say is heard. I do not care, if she listens, so long as she can hear it.

"…I am sorry, for what I did. For lying to you, and believing it was for the best. In that sense I was only thinking of myself, and hoping you would move on. Spending…spending so much time with you, should have taught me you would not have moved on and yet…yet I clouded myself into thinking you would. For my own selfish comfort, to fuel the tasks at hand. You did not deserve, what it is you went through these past years. Understand, though, I had no idea. If I did…I would have done anything in my power, to make you smile."

A sadness falls over me. I want to cry, and yet I cannot. These days, it feels as if I have gone backwards. Backwards, to what I once was when I first emerged from my training facility. The emotions I learned and felt when I met Dez and our adventures began, feel so far from my reach. Lifting my hand, I let my fingers once again intertwine with hers.

"…Everything I am saying, comes out wrong. I cannot find the words."

I hear an uprising in the beeping of one of the monitors. Looking up, I search for which one it is. I find it soon, without trouble. It has a small digital heart on it, and so I make the assumption it is her heart monitor. Was it me, who caused her heart rate to increase? Can she hear or perhaps even feel me? I stare at her sleeping figure, and against the palms of my gloved hands, I feel a slight twitch in her fingertips.

"Dez? Can you hear me?"

There is no response, and the twitch I feel is so quick, that I wonder if it truly was real. Staring at her, I feel sensations and feelings that I believed to be dead in me. Still, with feelings renewed, it does not mean I will show them. It does not mean, I can tell her I love her, and try this again. My life has never been the same without her. The silence penetrates me, the night sky, dull and uninteresting. Everything, was lacking in my life, without her in it. I know, she would brighten my life. Rekindle the youthful feelings I once had and light a fire in my cold heart. Even still…I feel I will not be on this earth very long. Why…why give back the pain I caused her, only after freeing her from it? Am I truly…that selfish that I would think of doing so? Perhaps, and yet, by hesitating as I am…I am also thinking of her. Maybe, I should speak with her about this.

Only, that would cause unnecessary worries on her part. It would cause her to dote on me, to cry, and to stress over things she has no control over. The lifespan of ghouls truly depends on the ghoul themselves. I have lived a long life, and at times it was fulfilling. I have done enough, and seen enough. Now, I just wish to see Dez happy, and know that when I leave her, she will remain that way. Relighting old feelings and instances in our lives, will make her happy for a time. A very shot time, and then, she will be sad again. I want for her to be, happy without me. Happy, perhaps even, with someone like Gob. I know he harbors feelings for her. It is obvious. He is the dull man, that Dezbe so needs right now. Not…not a mercenary with a dying body.

Her heart still beats steadily faster. Not rising any higher, but keeping the same rhythm. My hand is still engulfing hers, and she still sleeps peacefully. I can only assume I imagined the flick of her fingers. She feels so cold, her had does, at least. With my free hand, I press my fingertips to her forehead. Cold chills run up my arm. Even though there is a blanket on her, she is still not warm. I wish, someone, anyone, would show me how to end this. Show me, how to fix this in a way where everyone could simply be happy. I do not care what it is, or how to achieve it.

If I stay here, remain until she wakes, I know she will not take it lightly. I know, she will search for some hidden meaning within that, and chase after it. Even, if I deny her time and time again, that hope will still linger on for her. She can only be happy, fully happy, if I am no longer with her. Knowing now, I am alive and she did not harm or kill me, Dez can rest easy. It is stupid of me, to think this will be easy for her, but I know it will all matter in the long run. I will protect her, and I will keep her safe from everything for as long as I can, but I cannot stand by her. I cannot let her believe, that I can live forever and she can die in old age. I have let her down far too many times. Now, I have to make up for those things. This is, a hard choice to make, but I know it is the right one. It is too hard, not to be.

Bending down, I kiss her forehead softly, just gently grazing her pale skin. Grabbing my armor, I slide it on swiftly. Strapping everything in place, I take my shotgun and strap it to my back. I hope, deep in her heart, she can love me when I am gone. That the love she carries with her for me, can help her. That it will somehow give her strength to carry on. Far too much time has passed, and the two of us are not the foolish love-struck people we once were. A time ago, I was everything she needed. I am not that now, and I cannot disappoint her. Destroy and shatter the image of me that she so painstakingly built.

Turning my back, I cannot bring myself to look at her. Instead, I hold back, and push the steel door open. It kills me inside, to walk away like this. To leave her, with open wounds on her heart and turn my back on her. Yet, everything changes. Time, people, places…I wish, to turn back time as much as she does. Can she ever forgive me? I hope. Another part, still wants her to hate me. If she does, perhaps then…then she can move on. I try, to push the thoughts as far away from my mind as I can. Bury them beneath the stony depths of my heart, and focus, on where my life will take me next. I do not know, but wherever I end up, I will rest there. I will rest, and hope the world can find the same peace, as I hope to find.


	25. I Like the Hurt

(Dez)

I had a dream. It was really foggy, and…everything was just dark. But I could hear Charon talking to me. He sounded far away, but I could hear him. It was like he was sorry. He kept telling me these things, nice things, and saying he didn't mean to do what he did. Then I felt him kiss me, I think. I mean, I'm not sure if he really did or not but, I felt it. It wasn't anything serious, a small peck on the forehead, I think. It was almost like, he didn't even really do much of anything. Like, he didn't want to even be near me.

Opening my eyes is hard. They feel heavy, like they want to sleep but frankly I don't want to sleep anymore. The last thing I remember clearly, is feeling really relaxed and having Charon carrying me. I can't tell you where he was taking me, or even where I am right now because I don't know. I'm not scared though, because even though Charon isn't the way I remember him to be, I know there's no way he'd hurt me, or take me somewhere dangerous. It's just not in him.

Slowly and blurrily, my eyes open and focus. There's a bright white light, and for a bit I think it engulfs the room. Voices sound really far off and smooth, like it takes a while to reach my ears. My body begins to realize things, like that I'm laying on a bed, and there's a warm blanket over me. Something sticks in my arm, but past knowledge tells me to leave alone all strange sensations until senses are at 100%. Don't want to rip out a vein during a panic attack, or something equally as stupid.

"…waking up."

Someone says, and their blurred image appears over me. I can't recognize them, but I know they're a ghoul. Charon, maybe? No the voice isn't his. Actually it sounds more feminine than anything. I feel cold hands touch my own, and I try to tell them to leave me alone. But no words come out, and all I can really do is shake my head a bit. My eyes aren't even all the way open, and I feel like there's so much weight pressing down on me. Like a Super Mutant decided to have a picnic on my head. Not sure, why really. It's not like there's a breathtaking view.

Trying to force my body to hurry up, I shake my head more, and blink my eyes. My vision is getting better, so I know I'm not losing that. I'd be pretty useless without my sight.

"Dez…can you hear me…Dez?"

Someone gently touches my face. I don't like it, because their hands are cold and it makes me cold. I can hear them, but I can't tell them I can hear them. Blinking and forcing my eyes wide open, I stare at them. Somehow I make out that it's Dr. Barrows, from Underworld. I made it to Rivet City. Alright not going to ask how that happened, even if I could ask. Nodding my head at him, well to the best I can, I try to tell Barrows that I can hear him.

"Take out the IV, let her get her strength up."

Barrows says, and then I think…it's a human. I never saw her before, she must be new. So, what happened to Graves? I feel the nurse tugging at my arm, pulling the medical tape that holds the needle in. It stings when she takes it out, but not too bad. As soon as it's gone, though, I can feel a bit of my strength returning. That and a bit of sickness, too. Without thinking, I groan. I wasn't even trying, but I guess sometimes your body just does things.

"Feeling alright?"

I hear a gravely, female ghoul voice, and I know it's Nurse Graves. Everyone falls silent, while I take the time to regain myself, and my composure. When my vision clears after a few long minutes, I find my hands, feel out my legs, and my torso goes together with it all.

"Where…where's Charon?"

It's the first thing I say. I guess…when he's the first thing I think of when I wake up, instead of how I got here or what happened, it means I do love him. I know I love him, and I think…I think that love for him is what helped me wake up. I was in a dark place. It was scary, and I thought I was alone until I heard his voice. Until I heard him talking, apologizing, saying all he could say. I didn't feel alone after that. Didn't feel so scared, in the dark place I was in. In a way, I guess I followed his voice, until I could wake up.

As I struggle to sit up, I look around and realize there's a cold silence to everyone. My insides, turn to ice. Barrows and Graves exchange nervous looks, as the human nurse stares in wonder. I feel nauseous. The human nurse sees this, and holds a kidney-shaped bowl out for me. As I puke, I wonder why they're shaped that way. Seems sort of pointless to me.

"Where is he?"

I ask again, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. I know the answer, but I need to hear it. The small ray of hope that he just took a walk somewhere, is still in my heart. I think, there'll always be that hope for him, no matter how much time passes.

"He left two nights ago. A few hours after he brought you here."

Barrows tells me, with more sympathy than normal for a doctor. I look around again, just in case he's hiding somewhere, even though I know that's ridiculous.

"He told me to tell you to go home."

Nurse Graves tells me, solemn and sad for me. I don't want their pity. I just…I just want Charon. In the dark place, he said he was sorry for all of it. For making me go through pain and everything and…I wonder…if he was so sorry why didn't he fix it? He's always been a mystery, though. To others, and to me, even. There's things about him, that even I don't know, and probably never will. Charon is secretive with serious matters. Matters of the heart, especially. I know there's a reason for him leaving, for him to do these things, because he doesn't do anything without reason. My only argument is, no reason is good enough to let what we have fall apart. My reason, for wanting him back, for wanting to chase him and track him down, is because I love him. Maybe, though now, that reason won't hold water, against his own.

I look at Graves, and heave a big and dramatic sigh. This cat and mouse game will get old one day, but for now, it's sort of fun. Still, if there's no idea as to where he went, I guess that means I'll be taking a shot in the dark. He won't return to Underworld like I guessed the first time, and Rivet City isn't an option because the last place he'd hide is here. The risk of someone seeing him is too great, and frankly he'd be really stupid to stay. In Rivet City, I mean.

"…Can I go home, then?"

Their answer won't change my actions. Still I think it's polite that I do. I don't care how I came to be here, or what's happened in the past two days. All I want to know, I do know. Charon is gone and I have to go to Megaton. I have this stupid notion that maybe if I listen to him, he'll come around. Ghouls have much longer lives than humans, but I have another thirty, forty, hell let's push it to fifty, years to go. With all that time ahead of me, waiting for a few days and resting with Gob won't kill me. Unless someone _wants_ to kill me, which is another story entirely.

"Don't you want to know the results of your tests, first?"

Barrows says while I wiggle my toes into my boots and sling my legs over the side of the bed. I feel dizzy now.

"Wait, perhaps it's not good for her to go, Doctor. She might still be sick."

Graves interferes with my plans, but not really. Barrows looks at me, raising an eyebrow.

"What tests?"

I ask him, as we both ignore Graves. She's right though. I do feel like shit. And a big stinking pile of it.

"Your fertility tests."

"Oh. That happened? Yeah, sure."

"Surprisingly, even with the sustained damage to your abdomen, you're still able to bear and birth children. Raising them on the other hand, is an entirely different matter."

"Stop talking to Charon. Are you sure he didn't tell you where he was going?"

They shake their heads, and I can see they're not lying. After all, what would they gain by lying to me? Nothing, really. Just a bunch of stupid.

"All he told us was that he was leaving, and to tell you to just go home."

"Right. Well. I guess I'll do that then."

I never learned the human nurse's name. Never cared to, really. Between letting Barrows run some more quick tests, and them taking my temperature even after I left the med bay, there wasn't time. I got my sawed-off back from Graves, and washed my face up in the restroom before taking off into the Wasteland again. Questions about how I got there never came up, because they're not important to me, really. Charon brought me here, and he left because that was all he wanted to do. It was the deal, and he held up his part. I have to hold up mine and go home. But I won't stay home, for very long.

As I'm about to stroll on out of Rivet City and proclaim it can kiss my pale, white ass, Barrows stops me.

"Dezbe?"

I love my name.

"Yeah?"

I look back at him as I open the door, and light a cigarette. It's been a full two days without one, and there's a no smoking thing going down in the med bay. For I guess good reason but shit, I need a cigarette.

"Charon asked indirectly about his ability to produce children."

Raising an eyebrow, I realize the small, importance of this. It is small, but in the bigger picture, it means so much more.

"He did, did he?"

I just wanted an excuse to word a sentence that way. Hiding behind veils of immature foolishness is a great defense. It hides the fact that you're really hurting, over the one person you love leaving you at the worst time in need. Then again, I understand why he did. I wasn't dying. I was okay.

"Yes, he did. If you two happen to patch things up, take this for safe measure. Walking all the way back down here would probably be a notch in plans, so keep it safe."

He hands me a pill. I don't ask what it is, but he even dresses it up in a nice little bottle.

"That's for _Charon_ to take, it won't do anything for you."

"Gotcha."

I slide the bottle into my pocket and say nothing else. I don't have a pack with me. I have cigarettes, I have my shotgun and enough ammunition to last my way to Megaton. There's nothing more, I really need. The only thing I want, really want, is out there some where. Out, beneath a burning sun that's too hot for foreign skin to handle. On a patch of hardened dirt and sand, walking silently as if there's an underlying purpose or mission. Smirking to myself, as I walk across the Rivet City bridge, I know better.

Charon has no mission anymore. He went on his past, and he found it. If it was good or bad, I don't know, because he never told me. I just know in the three years we spent together, that was the only thing left. The only thing that wasn't finished, and the only thing that ever bothered him. Now, there's nothing left for him to find. Nothing for him to chase, to discover, to even…well, love.

The wind whips my hair around, and smoking my cigarette I keep my head down, with a knowing smile still on my face. The sun is high in the sky. It's warm today. I can't think, that I don't enjoy this hurt. This hurt that I feel, by being alone, waking alone, has always been matched and associated with the sweet salvation of reconciliation. Call me crazy, or call me wise, there really is no difference. What's love, if you don't suffer for it? If you receive it, so easily and nonchalantly, is it then meaningful? Is it…worth it? This hurt, the hurt of the past, just means the love in the future will be that much better. I like, that it hurts. Because…when it hurts…it'll mean so much more.

For now, I can go home. I can go to Megaton, and try to make peace with the demons in my head. Those voices, that disturb the natural flow and patterns of my happy and hopeful thoughts. Everyone has them. Dealing with them, and knowing how, comes with maturity. Charon loves me, I know it. That voice I heard when I was cold, dark and alone, was real. It wasn't my mind tricking me. It was him, and just knowing after all this time, he still loves me in return…well, I couldn't ask for more. Just knowing…might be enough…for me to be okay.

Okay…with being apart. Because…somewhere in this land, Charon is thinking of me. As he walks, I can see it so perfectly, he thinks of me. Across the barren lands of this once fruitful world, beneath a scorching sun, with his shoulders arches forward, hands clasped into fists at a steady sway, and deadly eyes closed because he doesn't need to see…Charon thinks of me. If he never comes back to me in Megaton, and I never find him in any excursions and hear any word of him…I hope, knowing his love is still with me, and his thoughts are of me, will help me get to the day, where waking up doesn't hurt so much. I guess I sound stupid, because this one man has so much control, but…you've never loved, and never hurt, like I have.

Silently, I throw away my cigarette and make my way into the tunnels that will lead me home. My light is still broken, but I don't need it. I don't need anything, except what I have. When you're this much in love, and hoping and optimistic as I am right now…you like to pretend, it's all true. After all the years, the enemies have dwindled, and humans and ghouls have excelled. There's no real fears for me, except for Raiders, and they're not great. Somehow…I just have this feeling, that I'll be alright. It hurts, don't get me wrong. Inside, my heart cries and bleeds almost, with each deep beat. It kills me, and can bring me near tears if I let it, but I won't let it. I won't…be discouraged, when I've come this far.

My hands still feel the warmth of his, if I try to feel it hard enough. I can hear his saddened and apologetic voice in my mind, and I know slowly, those emotions are coming back to him. In the end, really, all that matters is he loves me. Loves me, and always has. If he didn't…he would have stayed. But he left, because still, my happiness means more to him, than his own. He thinks, this is my theory, that he can't make me happy anymore. If I ever see him again, if I ever…run into him, I'll spend every moment showing him how stupid he's being. I'll prove to him, that even if he just drops by every now and again, I will love him and be happier than I ever was before. Just having him around me, thinking of me, makes me feel as if I could fly. Have you ever felt, what it was like, to fly? I have. And it's beautiful.

I know Charon. I know, that even if things work out between us, staying in one place won't suit him. He's like me. And I know, that he wants a family. There'll be times, I won't be able to go with him. I'll have to stay home, but you know I'd be okay with that. Wherever home is, I won't mind staying there, and waiting for him. Not because I won't be some weak woman, but because that's where I'm happy. I'd be just as happy following him, because in that sense we're the same, but someone has to take care of the kid. And when he comes home…that will be the highlight of it all. But, that's a big 'if'. We may never see one another again, and we may cross brief paths. Either way, I'm happy, having him in my life, and knowing he's thinking of me.

From nowhere, a light shines on me. It's bright, and white almost yellow. I'm deep in the tunnels, so I can only assume who it is isn't trying to attack me. That or this is one good sneak attack. Raising one hand to block the light from my face, I carefully move my other one to the butt of my sawed-off.

"Dezbe? Is that you?"

I recognize that voice, and even though I can't see their face, I know who it is. My question being is, what the hell is he doing all the way out here?

"Cassidy?"

The surprise shows in my voice. Cassidy lowers the light, which is unneeded since well, the tunnel lighting is dim enough to see in. My eyes take a while to adjust back to normalcy, but I hear him coming closer. Finally adjusting, I see his weathered face that reminds me of Raul and Wernher. Even though Cassidy is human. I guess it's the gunslinger in him. You learn a lot about people, when you listen.

"How the hell did you get here?"

I ask without much delay. It is shocking, but, I get over it. A lot of things, don't shock me anymore.

"Are you alright? Dezbe, what are you doing way out here?"

"It's just 'Dez', Cassidy. Hey I asked first."

He's frantic so I'm instantly assuming his time out here was less than enjoyable. Still, it is nice to see a familiar face. Even if most faces I see, are already familiar these days.

"What? I…I was worried so I came here with a caravan."

"…That doesn't tell me much. Are you stalking me?"

I say it comically, but Cassidy doesn't seem much like a comedian.

"No, Dez I was worried. You left with those people and then…then you were acting so strange and…"

"How would you know I was acting strange if you never knew how I was before? This smells Mirelurk-y."

He raises an eyebrow at me. Cassidy is tall, but not Charon-tall. In my mind, I compared them a lot. I don't know why.

"I'm sorry I'll explain as soon I get over the shock of actually finding you."

"You're over it now tell me. My hand is still on my gun, Cassidy. I won't hesitate to shoot you if you're a threat. No offence."

His mouth twitches. I don't know why.

"None taken. Alright…well, like I said I was worried. I came here, and found this town. With a bomb."

"Megaton."

"Right, and I found the people who took you. They said you were in Underworld and told me how to get there, then a trader said he saw a ghoul carrying you to Rivet City and gave me directions and here I am!"

Wait…this doesn't add up. But I'll figure that part out later. Instead I want to know, just how well Cassidy here is at surviving.

"When exactly did you get to the Capital Wasteland?"

"About a day or so after you left."

"I see."

So. It took him this long to reach Rivet City. Taking out his unknowing areas of the land, I'd say that's good. Most people would get lost in these tunnels. Which is why when I started I said 'fuck it' and climbed the rubble. This way is easier, though.

"I was worried."

"So you've said."

"You don't seem surprised to see me."

I start to walk, and he walks with me. I hope he doesn't think this whole thing between us means we're going to fall in love and fuck. I'm already in love, and I'm not going to fuck anyone besides him.

"I am. But things just get common, even the uncommon."

"Where are you going?"

I shrug, letting him continue to walk with me.

"To Gob's. Charon told me to go home."

"Who?"

"Charon."

Oh, right he doesn't know. To make the walk seem shorter, I tell Cassidy a summarized and not-too-deep story of the adventures of Charon and Dezbe. Leaving out the politics and focusing really on us. Cassidy seems to follow it, even the parts of the past that make no real sense. He listens, to even the bad subjects and nitty gritties. I'm not divulging too deep, because if he doesn't know than he shouldn't know and that's my outlook. I spent enough time, trying to tell people I'm the good guy in all of this. Now, I just want to live and maybe embrace a little of that bitch they've all thought of me.

"So that's it. Now I'm going home, because Charon said to go home."

"You're in love with a ghoul?"

"Funny how that's your first concern after all I've said."

I give him a half-assed answer because I'm picking the lock so we can go above ground and switch tunnels. It should be somewhere in the afternoon, or something. I haven't checked the time on my Pip-Boy.

"Well, truthfully the entire story is shocking. I'm just too shocked to focus on important things."

"It's not your life so don't worry about it."

"But I worry about you."

Getting the lock undone I leave the gate open for him as I pass through. He sure can pry.

"There's no reason to. I'm fine on my own. You hardly know me."

"Because you never let me know you, when I wanted to."

"When _you_ wanted to, not when _I _wanted to."

"Are you always this brash?"

"Nah, this is mundane. Sometimes I can be a real bitch. Now, that's scary."

We make it from one tunnel to the other without any trouble. I notice Cassidy carries two small Magnums on his waist, meaning he really is a gunslinger. The long coat he wears might conceal more weaponry, but I haven't quite figured it out yet. He has no pack.

"You're carrying light."

He says to me, and I shove my hands back into my pockets. I want to reach Megaton in less than two days. Wonder if it's possible?

"So are you."

"Shotgun?"

"I'm good with unarmed, guns, and melee. Automatic weapons are too hard for me to aim, and frankly the lightweight of a sawed-off is all I need. Power, punch, and a bit of gore."

"You seem to know your stuff."

"Nope. I know what I'm good at and it's all I need to know. Plus, living out here, you're forced to learn fast."

Cassidy sighs, and the tone gets a bit more serious as we make our way down from the top of the underground platform. I can't wait, to get home to Gob and talk to him. To talk to Zack and tell them both of my hopes and dreams. Maybe some of my desires, too. Just because I don't have Charon right now, doesn't mean I never will, right?

"Dez, I really was worried about you."

I feel bad for being a bit mean, but not much. After all, he did show up randomly in my life, and he's acting a bit suspicious.

"Thank you for that, too. But really, I'm fine."

"If I knew that, I would have still come."

Warning! I know that tone, and I know those sweet words. Did my tale of Charon mean nothing to him? Maybe I'm wrong, though. It's better for me to play stupid, than to open my mouth and prove I'm stupid.

"You should go back once we reach Megaton. This place isn't your home."

"I like it here, though. Maybe I'll do some exploring. You should show me around since it seems you know this place like the back of your hand."

"I do. But I have to go home. Charon said to go home."

"And then what?"

I never…never thought about that. Shaking my head, I try not to let those demon voices overpower me. Until I'm with friends and safe, I want to be hopeful. After all, when I'm scared, with a strange person, and sad, I might kill him or do some other things that I'll regret. I'm done with making those. Shrugging, I play with the lighter in my pocket.

"I don't know. Wait, I guess."

"What if he doesn't come back?"

"Then I'll go looking."

"And if you can't find him?"

"Cassidy…shut up."

And he does. He shuts his stupid mouth and lets me continue my walk in silence. Which is good. It feels like he's encouraging those voices. Those demons that I hate to admit I have. But we all have them, really. I don't want to think, that Charon left for selfish reasons. That his apology was really a lie, and he was saying it to make me feel better, to give me closure. If I want to hope, even if it isn't real, let me hope. False hope…it's still hope. This hurt I feel, it has to be justified. I can't…can't think that he won't ever love me again. I want it to hurt, because I know there's a reason for it. I would worry, if I woke up and felt nothing. Because then it would mean I didn't love him anymore. There has to be, reconciliation of some type at the end of this. If there isn't…what'll happen to me? To us?

"…Charon loves me. We will meet again."

"Not to argue your beliefs, but, what if he doesn't anymore?"

"…Why…do you want this hurt…to not be comforted? Why…do you want me to hurt, without hope at the end?"

I stop walking, but keep my back to him. Tears well in my eyes, but I won't let them out. I won't let those voices win. I don't want them to win.

"That's not what I mean."

"It seems like it. Telling me these things. Just let me believe, he will come back."

"I just don't want you to be disappointed."

"He's alive, when I thought he was dead. There's nothing anymore, that can disappoint me."

"Him not loving you will."

"No one else will love me the way he does. No one, will make me cry out in pain and ecstasy, like Charon has. Don't ever tell me, he doesn't love me. Because even if he doesn't, at one time he did."

I turn around to face Cassidy in my vault suit. Curious, that he hasn't asked about it. That he hasn't inquired as to why I'm wearing it, but instead only focused on Charon and Charon's love for me.

"No man has made me feel the way he did. No man, has ever pleased me emotionally and sexually, like Charon. In fact, no man has been man enough to. No man, has been brave enough to endure and face what Charon's had to, and no man has taken the time to carry me to safety, even if there wasn't much hope for me. And let me tell you, the way I moan when I'm with Charon…I've never moaned like that with anyone else."

Cassidy gets a strange look on his face. It isn't understanding, but it isn't misunderstanding, either. It confuses me, and worries me. Almost as if he's accepted some underlying challenge. But, instead of focusing on him, and his issues, I turn around and keep walking. I guess, I'm a sadist, because I like the way this hurts.


	26. Prayer for Your Lonliness

Cassidy and I say nothing to one another. We don't speak, even when we leave the ruins of the city behind. After crossing the river, I stop and take a look at it all. Its sunset, you know. And the sun setting, over desolate land and ruins, it's really beautiful. Figuring with the river in front of me, and the desert to my back as I watch the silhouette of the city, it's a safe place to rest. To camp for the night, even though…I'm not that tired.

Cassidy watches the sunset beside me. Neither one of us has anything left really to say to the other. At least, that's what I think. I know I'm wrong, because even though the beauty of this place is taking my breath away, I can tell he's bubbling with questions that I hope go unanswered. Tomorrow, bright and early, we'll wake. Tomorrow, we'll get to Megaton, and I'll see Gob and Zack. For a time being, I can pretend. Really pretend, that tomorrow isn't so scary. That the days after it, won't be a day like it was before. That there's something brighter to look forward to, than just a bleak and lonely existence.

I'm doing just what Charon told me to do. I know, that it's stupid. To think, there's a light in this. I have a feeling, that the light will never shine. A sneaking suspicion, my own mind, played a mean trick on me. That my hopes are for nothing and I'm just running into this with no real direction. But, isn't that what I always do anyways? If I had thought about anything, before I left the vault, I often ask myself if I would have left at all? If you think about things, think them through, usually you don't do them. So sometimes, I guess, it is better to run blindly into them.

"Are we going on?"

Cassidy asks as the last beam of sunlight drifts through the decrepit remains of buildings, giving the entire place an eerie glow. I light a cigarette, and shrug.

"No, we camp here."

I don't want to talk to him. I don't want to talk to anybody. All I want to do in this rare peaceful moment, is enjoy it. Enjoy, that there's no Raiders or mercenaries out to get me, that there's no Super Mutants or real enemies in the area. Enjoy the warmth that's soon going to leave, and most of all, enjoy the silence. Charon and I, were supposed to take on the world together. We were supposed to be together, forever and ever, and…laugh through it all, really. In a way, I guess we did take on the world. Any enemies in our way, we've destroyed to near extinction, and we've had a good bunch of laughs on the road, too. Still, even with all these falsified hopes and disillusioned dreams, I can't help but feel I'm chasing him like a lovesick puppy.

Sitting down, I finish my cigarette as the dusk becomes night. Cassidy looks around, worried, and it annoys me for a bit. I try not to let his presence get to me, though. This is why, I kept alone for so long. People generally bug me, and their company is mainly unwanted.

"Are you sure this is safe?"

He asks, sitting down nervously across from me.

"Scared?"

"No. Just worried."

There's no response to give. So I don't. Instead I look up at the appearing stars, and lie down on my back. You know, there's a peaceful thing about this land. Maybe it's because somewhere deep down I'm still so use to living in a vault, but, the night sky really is something.

"You're taller than most folk out here, Dez."

That's observant.

"I grew up in a vault."

"Is that why you're wearing the jumpsuit?"

"One of many reasons."

"You know, there's a lot of scars on that body."

"We discussed this."

"Most men won't like a woman as beat up as you."

"I don't particularly care what most men think, Cassidy. I have my own agenda, I stick to it."

His attempt at conversation only succeeds in pissing me off.

"I admire that."

"I admire the silence, you know that?"

"Touchy, aren't we?"

"No, I'm annoyed."

I sit up and toss my cigarette into the river behind me. I wanted to make this trip alone. There's a lot I need to think about, and I can't do that with other people around. Maybe I'm crazy but sometimes, I just think everyone around me can hear my thoughts at one point or another. Yeah, I'm just crazy.

"Why are you annoyed?"

"Because I had hoped to make this trip alone but lo and behold you barge into my life somehow. I don't even know how it's all possible, but at any rate I'll accept it. Even still, you had no right to follow me."

"A man chasing a woman out of worry is usually seen as chivalry."

"Not in this day and age, bub."

I don't know really what 'chivalry' was back in pre-war times, I'm not sure many people do. All I do know is that it's changed. Like everything else. Charon would tell me stories of pre-war when we lived together. He'd say how easy life was, even though the world was in peril. They had go-cars and moto-bikes, telephones to call people, radios like Three Dog and a bunch of other stuff, really. To be honest, I can't imagine how back then, life was considered 'hard'. I still don't know how to boil water on a stove, and I never really tried to learn how to turn one on. After all, they blow up when you shoot them in towns, so why wouldn't it blow up anywhere else?

But, Charon said back then, they didn't hunt for their food. They'd go to places like Super Duper Mart, and grab what they wanted, throw it together and get food. So I guess a lot like vault-life, only we had to grow a lot of our vegetables, and meat was scarce. Life without hunting for food, trading for it, seems easy. Being able to buy clothes you like, is better than scavenging armor from your latest kill. He once told me about family life back then, too. I never told him, but…I'd be down, with using the stove and having fires inside the house. I just don't live in pre-war times. It makes a small smile creep over my face, to think about what would happen if Charon and I were dropped in 2200, long before the war, only as we are now. We would screw with so many people.

"What's so funny?"

Cassidy asks, interrupting my thought of how people would react to seeing Charon on a pre-war street. Ghoul for sale!

"Ah, was just thinking of things. Like pre-war."  
My tone is more casual than it should be, but…well, give me some time to be happy.

"Pre-war? That's unusual."

"No it's not. This whole city is pre-war, it's the _least_ bit unusual."

"I just have the mindset that since it was so long ago, the notion or thought that life would be like pre-war would leave people."

"I was just wondering what it was like."

"I wouldn't know."

"Charon knows."

Cassidy raises an eyebrow. The moonlight is bright. Nothing compared to the sun, but, I'm scared to see what would happen without it.

"How does he know about pre-war?"

"He was there. He's a pre-war ghoul."

I keep my gaze on Cassidy. His expression changes, and I don't like it much.

"What's up?"

Lighting a cigarette I inquire about his thoughts. Only because it confuses me, and a bit of worry works up.

"I've spent a lot of time meeting ghouls. Very few are pre-war."

"Yeah ghouls are leaving us. There's Carol, though, and Charon. There all I know of."

"Because pre-war ghouls should be mostly dead by now."

My cigarette nearly falls out of my mouth.

"What?"

Cassidy folds his arms over his chest. He nods his head, almost smug-like. I don't like it, I don't like where this is going.

"Ghoul life is long. But pre-war ghouls by now are pushing three-hundred years. That's a long time, even for a ghoul. If Charon really is pre-war, his time is almost up. All the pre-war ones I knew, died around this age. Of course it all depends on the ghoul and their health and other things."

"…You're telling me Charon is dying?"

He shrugs and lights his own cigarette. He's so casual, nonchalant. I don't fucking like it.

"No, but I'm saying it's a possibility. Dez, I'm shocked you haven't thought of this. If he left you, and didn't say why, maybe because he's dying and can't share that with you. Maybe he wants to die alone."

I never really, took that thought into consideration before. I never thought, it was even a possibility. In all the time I've spent with and apart from Charon, him dying of natural causes…never…never crossed my mind. Thinking back, I realize now that…I always thought he would live forever. That because of his training, his knowledge and his ghoulification, Charon was a force of longevity and invincibility. Him dying, because of something as plain as old age, never settled in my mind. Even now, swallowing that thought, is…is hard. Charon…is pushing three-hundred and twenty-something years. He's old, even for a ghoul. But, age never came into play once. Because when you're a ghoul, I guess I just got this notion, that whatever age you were when the ghoulification started, is the age you were forever to be. Thinking, that Charon could in fact be dealing with the human ways of aging…hurts. Hurts more than, him leaving me.

Because, from his training, him saving me countless times, his unyielding way of always being there…Charon to me, was superman. A superhero. He could do anything and would do anything. Nothing brought him down, nothing hurt him. There were times when it was close, and I did for a while think he was dead but, not by old age. Not by, something _that_ simple. I always thought, in my stupid and naïve mind, Charon would die in a blaze of glory, rather than a stupid natural thing.

"Are you alright? I didn't mean to upset you."

I realized just now, I'm crying. Not because I'm alone with a strange man in the Capital Wasteland en route to Megaton and I have no one to love, but…but because somewhere, Charon is alone. Somewhere, Charon may be dying, and he has no one beside him. Isn't that worse, than teasing my emotions? Furthermore why didn't he tell me? Of course this could be a complete bullshit theory but it's the only one that fits. Why else would he try so hard to have no feelings for me, or even push me away? I understand a bit now, the reasoning behind Charon's actions. I mean, how must it look to him? If he knows he's dying, and I'm back in his life, he knows he'd only be there for a little. Making a child, when you're on a time limit of undetermined but close, isn't wise. Being with someone you know loves you, only to leave again, isn't good. But Charon doesn't know me very well, then. If he thinks that, I'd be sad. I would mourn for him, but in the end, if he was with me, then really he'd be with me forever. Dying alone…I can't imagine…ever wanting to do that. I'd want to be with Charon if I was dying. I'd want to be with him, and have him hold my hand until I couldn't open my eyes anymore. Because at least then, there would be time for goodbyes and closure. Anything, is better than laying down, and being alone for that journey. Anything.

"…We have to find him, then."

"What?"

"We have to find him! He could be dying alone _right now_! We have to find him!"

I stand up and yell at Cassidy, who looks at me like he's just watched a Brahmin go mad. No, a Brahmin is nicer, they'd run away. I'm charging.

"Dez, do you know where he went?"

"It doesn't _matter_! You came to find me! You used your skills! Use them to find Charon!"

"Calm down! I simply asked and ran into you by luck. This place is huge, we can't just walk around until we meet him."

"Yes I can! I can!"

"You're acting childish. Aren't you pushing mid-thirties?"

Does it matter how I'm acting? Does my age matter? I've never thought about my age, never thought about Charon's age. Never, ever, ever. I've always acted on how I felt. Yes I've grown, yes I've matured but not because I went up another year, but because in that year I _learned_ things. I can be fucking ten and know more than a fifty year old if I _live_ through enough bullshit. Age, right now, only matters when death is knocking.

"Shut up! We have to go, we have to find him."

"Alright where do we start?"

Before I can even take a step, my adventure ends. Where do I start? Where on earth, could Charon have possibly disappeared to? I don't know. I can't even begin to think of places, where he might want to die. If that's even where he's going. All these things are so quick and spontaneous I don't know what to believe anymore. I just know, regardless of why he left, I know he did it because he thought it was best for me. Because he still loves me. It just makes me want to find him even more.

"…I don't know, but we have to start somewhere."

"Your idea of listening and going home is best. Maybe he's waiting for you there, you know, a surprise."

"Charon doesn't do 'surprises'. He shoots things. That's the surprise. You dying. Surprised?"

"Putting it that way, he sounds merciless."

"He is. Except with me. And I know him. I know, if he found out you were with me he'd…"

I get a cunning and nasty idea that makes an equally nasty smile across my face. Sometimes, tapping into the nineteen-year-old inside is the smartest thing I can do.

"He'd what?"

He'd flip. Charon is jealous, he always has been. From Butch, to Gunny, to all men in between, Charon hates having any other man even look at me the wrong way. It's the passive-aggressive possessiveness he has that makes me love him so much. I'm his and no one else's. That is that, and yet, I have ultimate freedom. If Charon…were to find out that I'm traveling with a man, a man from a town I once resided in nonetheless, he'd have to investigate. So long as no one found out anything more than they already know. Because then Charon would know this man is no threat, and he'd walk away.

Sitting back down, I calm myself. Sometimes, you have to plan. This is one of those times. Even if I wanted to run blindly into it, having a plan really helps too.

"You have to do something for me when we get to Megaton."

"Are you always this emotionally unstable? What?"

"If anyone asks about you, or your history with me, say nothing."

"Why?"

"Because it'll get him back, and keep you out of trouble."

"I don't see what you're getting at…"

"Look. Everyone in this land knows me. If they hate me or not doesn't matter, the fact is, they know me. Word travels fast. Eventually, me being with a mysterious man from a mysterious time will reach Charon. Ten bucks says it's on the radio right now. His personality, if still the same, will draw him to investigate. If it does, I get him back."

"And what happens to me?"

"Nothing, if you do what I say. If you don't say _anything_, I can save your life if he comes back. If not, well, Charon's personality is I point at something and he kills it. Get my drift?"

"How do I know you're this popular?"

Even if my light isn't working, my radio is. Without a second thought I tune in to Three Dog's old station. Sure enough, there's an announcer. It's not Three Dog, go figure, but it has the same effect.

"…tuning in and we hear that lady from 101 so far back is heading to her homeland of Megaton with…a mysterious being who…"

I click it off and stare at Cassidy.

"How do they know that?"

"Beats me. Been that way since I came out of the vault. Fact is that's the most listened to station here. People know, Cassidy. Don't fuck with my plan."

He sighs, and shakes his head.

"Call me crazy but, this plan seems ill-devised. And childish. An adult wouldn't fall for it."

"Charon is different."

"You're really confident this will work."

"No, but what else do I have to believe in?"

Cassidy knows I'm right. He hears the soft tone of my voice, hears how sad it is, and knows that…in the end I really do have nothing else. There's no one aside from Gob and Zack waiting for me in Megaton. I have no house, no person to return to and lie beside. No one waiting, to kiss me hello and lie with me until the night becomes day. I'm not undermining Gob and Zack, I'm simply saying I have a different relationship than I do with Charon. Very, very different.

"You seem sad."

Cassidy tells me, as I pull my knees to my chin. Deciding that's not comfortable, I figure I should just lie down. The air is getting colder, and it's better if I fall asleep before it gets too cold, and I can't sleep.

"I am."

"You really do love this man, don't you?"

"…I wasn't kidding when I said I did."

"Just never met a woman who loved a man like that."

"Yeah."

I turn my back to him, as I lie on my side. Sighing quietly, I stare across the Potomac River at nothing. I stare at the water glistening against the moonlight, and for some reason it reminds me of Gomorrah. I don't know why, really. Maybe because the way the water glistens, reminds me of how the lights would shine against the night sky. Artificial stars, you know.

"Dez?"

I don't want to talk right now.

"What?"

"Ever think that…maybe it's time to give up and move on from this fellow?"

"Nope."

"That's direct."

Where are you, Charon? Why did you leave, and why did you leave me with this bozo?

"What? You asked, I gave you an answer."

"I just simply meant that most women would have at least _toyed_ with the thought of…moving on. Not sure if it's noble or stupid, really, that you haven't."

"…A while ago, when I was younger, I left to go to New Vegas. I tried to get over him. I tried…to move on, find a better man even but…it never happened. I stayed away for a long time, too. But of all the men I met, courted, you know, no one was ever able to take Charon's image from me. No one ever measured up. So when I came back here, I gave up the idea of moving on, and accepted him as the one I'm supposed to be with. You know, that true love bullshit. Wow, this just got heavy."

I hear Cassidy sigh, and I close my eyes. I don't want to look at the water, the stars, or anything. I don't want to see how beautiful it is, because without Charon, nothing is just as perfect.

"He means a lot to you, doesn't he?"

I smirk at that comment. Even though, it's quite the understatement.

"Maybe sleeping with a mercenary trained to kill with no remorse was a mistake. Maybe it wasn't. I don't know. But the laughs and good times we had, even though they're few and far between, outweigh all this pain."

"He's a mercenary trained to kill?"

"Yeah. I thought I mentioned that? Charon's objective, before meeting me, was to obey and kill as quickly and discreetly as possible. Or really, however his employer wanted."

"He sounds dangerous."

"He is."

"Were you ever scared?"

It's a bold question. I don't have to think much about the answer but, I pretend to. I pretend to, because when someone asks that, it makes me warm inside. Warm, because I know, I'm the only person in this world, who was never in any danger, no matter what, beside Charon. I have a special place. I know that much.

"No. I was never…scared of him. There were times where his actions scared me but, in the back of my mind, I always knew he'd rather die himself, than kill me. That…something would stop him, from really causing me pain, no matter what. He's dangerous to everyone else, but not me."

"You're not making me feel comfortable in your presence."

"And you shouldn't be, Cassidy."

I pick my head up and turn. Opening my eyes, I give him a sick, twisted smile. After Butch and countless other horrible sexual experiences with unwanted men, precautions are necessary. They're a must. Aside from Gob and Zack, I don't want any man to feel safe around me. Ever.

"Don't ever think, for one second that you're safe with me. There's dangerous things out here, but trust me. Nothing, is more dangerous or scarier, than Charon when he's found out someone's touched his woman."

"…Possessive?"

"Insanely so."

Alright, alright so Charon isn't as possessive as I'm making him out to be. Still, I'm only trying to scare Cassidy. Even though I've known him five years, I don't _know_ him. I know nothing about him, I know nothing of his past, or anything. For all I know, and suspect, there's an ulterior and more dangerous motive to him following me out here. Then again, maybe not. But I would rather be safe, and keep him scared, than somewhere with my legs torn apart and my cries going unheard. I have a lot of scars, I've seen a lot of things, but the memories of being attacked in the one way that can break me, still haunt me at night. The Brotherhood, Vegas, Butch, it all haunts me. It haunts me even more, now that Charon isn't here to protect me from those nightmares. I only act like it doesn't, because as a woman…you can't show that. You can't show it, because you have to be strong, and there is always that feeling of shame, and wondering if it truly is your fault. It never is, but still, there is always doubt.

Before I close my eyes, though, I make sure to look at Cassidy. He has a look of fear and second-thought on his face. Following me wasn't in his best interest, and he realizes that now. It's too late, though. He can't leave, or else I'll shoot off his legs. He's scared to stay, because of Charon. He's scared to act, because of me, and because he knows there's far worse things, than dying alone and cold out here. And he knows, I hope, Charon is one of those 'worse things'.


	27. How the Children Weep

(Charon)

I did not intend for this to happen, when I left Rivet City. In fact, I was completely unsure and unknowing, of where I was going to go, and what exactly I wanted to do. The thought of rest was still fresh in my mind and yet, at the time, I felt it was still of unimportance. As if for some reason, my work here was not complete. Never, have I left something incomplete, so feelings as if something is, is not something I take lightly. However, I had trouble placing it, as I left the boat behind me. My past, Dezbe, those I know of and the few two I consider close friends, they are all taken care of. They are fine, and in good health, or soon to be in such. So, I wondered, why did I feel so empty?

Perhaps it was the simple presentation of the matter, that caused me to listen. It could be that it was a distraction at the time. I should have known, though, distractions are only temporary. I would have given anything, to erase the nagging thoughts and emotionally straining thoughts of Dez from my mind. Not that, I do not want to think of her, I do. Only, it hurts inside. It hurts, far worse, than I have ever hurt before. For a moment, no matter how short that moment was, turning my back on it all seemed to numb the pain. Walking away, and not looking back. But knowing, that I turned my back in the first place, hurt even more.

I had hardly left the perimeter of the structure that leads to the bridge of Rivet City, when I was approached by an old man. He was small, shorter than myself of course and shorter even than Dezbe. I analyzed it was due to age, and the natural deterioration of bones. However, this old man was different. Brown-tanned skin, leathery, wrinkled with stories and perhaps even adventures, with gray, thin hair and a kind smile. I had not seen that smile, in so many years that I suppose there was a weak element to it. It got me to listen to him. He reminded me of someone I knew, although I cannot place it even now, as I travel with him.

He explained to me, that he is a caravan driver. I listened to that part, uninterested. The man went on to tell me, he was moving up to The Pitt, and has a place to rest and live in, and conveniently it is where his last delivery is to. Yet, he told me that he had a suspicion he could not trust the guard that was appointed to him by Rivet City security. Saying I was strong and fit, that the gun on my back was nothing for intimidation compared to my physique and height, the old man asked me, to walk with him, and protect his caravan. In the twists of my minds, in the bout of confusion I was feeling over Dezbe, I agreed. Maybe, I simply wanted to do a good deed, in a pitiful attempt to atone for my wrongdoings. Either way, I am with him now.

The old man and I, have spent the better half of two days with one another. There has been no threats, and I can see in his eyes he feels his fear was misplaced. He is not scared of me, but scared that his choice was wrong, and somehow he interrupted something in my life. I want to tell him, that there is nothing in my life to interrupt, but I say nothing. I have not said much of anything, except simple replies to his inane questions. Besides the slight annoyance he is, the old man is good. He shows kindness. There are not many kind people, who are so old. Something to hope for, I suppose.

"You never did tell me your name."

The old man says. He is right. Neither one of us, know the other's name. This was intended on my part. As if he is my employer, I answer his question.

"Names are for friends and families. We are coworkers."

"Fair enough. Ever smile, then?"

My hands are in my pockets. Unprofessional, but I am clutching the wooden prayer necklace I carry. I feel my emotions slowly sliding away, and my monotone ways returning. Fear remains, and the necklace, I suppose, brings comfort of some sort.

"No."

The old man has smiled at many things. At the sunrise, and sunset. At the way I can easily build a fire, and how most things avoid us out here. It seems, he smiles at everything. I wish, I could be as carefree. I should not wish, though. Because soon enough, I know I will be. Simply put, I will be carefree and cold, and this man is carefree and warm.

"You should. Might brighten your day. Say it won't be too long before we're at the gates of The Pitt. I won't need you then once I get there, it's safe. Why don't we chat a bit? You don't talk much."

"I have nothing to say."

I answer accordingly, treating him only a bit more differently, than I would an employer.

"You have this strange way of speaking. You don't speak like most folk here."

"I am from before the war."

"No, no, not that. I mean, you speak with education and eloquence. From what I've heard, you have a certain way and flow to your words and sentences. Most people can't even make a sentence."

His comment reminds me of being with Dez in Rivet City. I did not have, education, flow, or eloquence when holding her hand. It somehow, undermines his compliment. I do not know what to say in response, so I say nothing.

"Either way. Anything you wish to talk about? I've stumbled across some pre-war books in my day. Maybe a debate?"

"Debates end in anger, and you need me. It is not wise on your part."

"Ha! You're right there. Pre-war though, huh? You're older than me. We're just two old men, walking in the waste together. Any idea of where you're going after this?"

"I had not thought of it. I do not know. It will come to me in time, I am not worried."

He looks back at me, his Brahmin at his right. There is a gleam of youth in his eyes.

"I remember when I was young. I hear ghouls have this…eternal youth, almost. That they feel young inside, even though they are old, their bodies don't really feel it. They just feel young."

"Perhaps. I would not know."

"You must, you're a pre-war ghoul."

"I did not know the feeling of 'being young'."

"What I meant to say, was you simply don't feel…what is it? Three-hundred?"

"I understand. You are right."

Yet, I am feeling it now. I am feeling, the weight of three centuries burdening my shoulders. The memories, the moments, the loss, all of it weighing down almost unbearable. I do not think, that I will live another year. Maybe, even, less. It is a weight on my mind, a burden, a constant nagging. Sometimes, I feel the drive to end it faster, so that I no longer have to worry. These worries, have plagued me for enough time.

"How do you feel about some music?"

I say nothing to the old man, as he reaches towards his Brahmin and flicks on an old radio. It amazes me, that even with all the technology of the pre-war era, only primitive things have survived. Weaponry aside, who would believe back then that we would come to rely on the most simple of radio wave frequencies? That even without towers or much technology of communication, the primitive ways still hold fast? Putting it like that, I suppose that could also be related to the invention of the wheel. Such a simple thing, really, and yet it changes the face of the earth and human existence as we know it. Makes one wonder, what will exist beyond this time? I do not wish to find out. I have lived and seen enough. Eventually, the earth will end, as all things do. I only hope by then I am long dead and forgotten.

"Three Dog has some better tunes."

I tune in to the old man. He is right. Three Dog plays songs that I heard in the pre-war times, but not now. It is a western-type song, and I suspect it has to do with his recent trade route he has opened up with the West Coast. The old man in front of me, hums and dances a bit to a tune meant to be placed in a different desert than this. One, with cacti and tumbleweed, and a vigilante cowboy hell-bent on bringing justice to the world. This is not that land. That land, died with all the other fantasies of pre-war. I assume now, I am one of the few who still remember a time when that was admirable. Living it in reality, is an entirely different thing.

"Say buddy?"

The old man does not call me 'friend' and something like 'employer' would be too professional for him. Perhaps he is looking for a friend in this journey. If so, he should have picked someone else to walk with him.

"Yes?"

I reply as the music goes silent. The old man says nothing, but instead listens to the broadcast. It is about Dezbe, or rather as she is still somehow known as, The Lone Wanderer. As much as I do not want to hear this, as much, as I want to push it to the back of my mind, I cannot help but keep an ear open. Cannot help, but listen as he howls and speaks of how she was spotted with a mysterious man from somewhere else, and how her demeanor was different. I do not want to hear, that Three Dog is happy of her return, but wonders where it is I vanished to. Without thinking of my action, I turn off the radio. I look at the old man, wanting him to ask his question as to divert attention from the matter at hand.

"...It's been a long time since I heard anything about that girl."

To my surprise, the old man smiles when he says that. I had always believed, and have seen, that most people here despise Dezbe. For more information and not in curious behavior, I inquire.

"Why do you smile when you say that? Many people here disliked her in the past."

He smiles still, and it makes no notion of leaving his face.

"That's the young folk. Us older people, we know. That girl was never trying to hurt this land. Hell if she did she wouldn't have done anything. Would have let it destroy itself. Understand the messages that are not spoken, is what most young people here can't do. I won't deny her actions were questionable at points, but I heard the broadcast she did of herself. I believe her, as do most folk. She is like the true anti-hero we needed. Most of us, would like to live freely like this, than feel safe in a society run by anyone else. Freedom comes with a price, and she I'm sure has paid it."

"I see."

"Are you a man of faith?"

I feel as if he knows something I do not. Passing that off as simple…paranoia I shake my head.

"I know of religion. I do not believe in anything that cannot be proven."

"That's not what I asked. I asked if you were a man of faith. If you believe in things, people, occurrences?"

Still, I shake my head. Maybe it is because I do not know what it is he is asking, or maybe I simply do not want to understand.

"Well, as long as that girl is here, I have faith in this land. I don't want it to be like New Vegas, or like pre-war. What I've read about pre-war, anyways. People survive just fine right now, and it's because of that girl we still have our lawless society. Knowing you can kill someone, stops many from creating enemies. It is a system that works. I have faith in that."

"It is nice to hear someone sees the truth in the matter."

"Oh? So you've followed her story, too?"

I shrug, not wanting to give much away. An inner voice inside tells me to come clean. Tell him that I am the ghoul who is missing from Three Dog's broadcast, and ask his advice on what it is I should do. I remind myself instead, that I am older than him. That whatever advice he has to offer, I have heard before, and it is nothing useful.

"I have no opinion on the matter. It is her life, and her choice on what to do. As long as she leaves me alone, there is nothing I care much about."

"I see. Wonder where her ghoul lover went, though. As much as people were against that sort of relationship, I was happy for her. Takes a lot to love someone from the inside out."

"Yes."

"When she told her story…what was it? Almost ten years ago? It was…beautiful. Hearing, the triumphs, failures, emotional strain and then still through all of that to still love and have hope, made me smile and have a bit more faith in humanity."

"Humanity is fragile."

"Yes it is, but I never heard of someone so in-tune with human nature. As if she understood the motives of why even Raiders did what they did. It's rare. She's a special girl."

He has no idea, the depth of that. The amount of specialty, Dez possesses.

"I would not know."

"I wonder why they parted ways? It bothers me. They were in this together."

"From what I know, it seems she would have done the same things, regardless of his presence."

The old man slows his pace and walks alongside me. This debate, causes me to realize that Dez is an icon of history. That her legend will far proceed her life, and I realize now…the importance she is to both humans and ghouls alike. I never realized before, that in the silence people gave her, was not anger, but reverence.

"No. No she seemed to be quite angry in the beginning. At least, that's what I've figured in the broadcasts. I could be wrong. But my theory is that man changed her for the better. People do things, crazy things, stupid things, when they have someone loving them. I don't think she would have done anything, without him."

"Maybe. Again, I would not know. I am curious as to why this interests you."

"Hope in this world is scarce, but she hoped. She hoped, and hell it made everyone hope with her. And, she loved. That love, despite our personal opinion of her, made everyone hold one another tighter at night."

I never thought of it that way. Always, Dez and I were focused too much on the bigger picture, than to notice the small details of it. A hurt burns within my chest, as I remember how she would cling to me at night, before our relationship had birthed. She needed me, back then. Needed me more than she will admit, and that I can say, but we can both feel. I needed her just the same. Perhaps, maybe I still do.

"It is good, to hear that her love brought people closer."

My voice is strained, but I do well to mask it. Emotions I want gone are slowly churning inside of me. My mind plays a trick for a moment, and I can feel her hair brushing against my face as it use to. I can feel, and remember, how she felt within my arms. She was the only thing, that I liked about myself. Even now, she still is. Which is why, I can never return to her. I want, to be preserved as this man sees me. A man who loved a woman, against all the odds. I do not want to be remembered, as the man who cowardly ran away, and was not brave enough to face the truth, or the pain that he put her through. I do not have courage like that.

"Is something on your mind?"

The old man asks when he sees I light a cigarette, and avoid eye contact.

"No."

I have faith, that one day, Dezbe will love again, and move on. I have faith, that someone will be a better man than me, a man she deserves. Even if, I do not feel right without her by my side.  
"You know, I bet there was good reason for them to break up. I mean, they were too much in love for them to simply decide it's over."

"Perhaps you should not know so much, or think so much, of other people's lives."

"You have a good wit. But come on, you can't say that her relationship didn't bring you hope. Hope that you'd meet a nice smoothskin. Is that what you call them, anyways?"

"I am not one to judge on looks."

The old man laughs, and nods his head. I do and say nothing, except walk alongside him and smoke my cigarette.

"Ah, that's a good one. This new man she's with, he won't last long. You don't do what those two did together, and then find someone else. Ain't gonna happen."

"Perhaps he died and she is moving on as she rightfully should."

"Nope. Women who love like that, won't love again. It's beautiful but sad, yet noble. I doubt they're fucking. Sorry to be brazen but, it's just what I think."

"People change."

"Nah. They don't. They just grow up a bit. You're always the same as you were when you were six, that's all. Even if you're different, you're still the same."

Dez at six, was quiet, solitary, and smart. She was a loner, or that is what she told me. I compare her personality from that age, to what it is now, and realize the old man is right. She is still a loner, she is quiet when alone and comfortable, and does not trust others easily. But then…then I worry. I worry, because of this man. Dez never mentioned someone, nor hinted that there was anyone in her life recently. From what I know, she was alone. Either, she lied or this man came from nowhere. Both theories are possible, but I am more inclined to believe the latter. She has never lied to me about men, even when she went to New Vegas she never hid anything from me.

She is strong, this I know. What causes me to worry, is the past. Not just the past we share but instances in her own past that I know of. She often expressed only pleasure, when having sex with me. With everyone else she claimed it was a chore, a duty, something to pass time. Moments like Butch and other such things make me angry. It makes me worry, concerned that in the end, this man will be no different from them. If this is so, then she will suffer. As strong, brave and cocky as Dezbe enjoys being, she is still a woman. A woman, is rarely stronger than a man. Less so, if that man is driven by desire and lust.

Blood pumps fast through my body, as my heard races. Simply thinking of her in this situation, makes me want to tear the heads off of anything near and close. This rage, this anger, makes me forget my age. It forces the sharp delays of my mind to cease, and my tired body to work again. I do not want this. I do not want, to be so controlled by something as unimportant as emotions. I have been controlled my entire life. I do not want it any longer and yet, I do not know, how to stop it.

I understand, though. Understand human emotions, and how no matter what, you are always a slave to something. Despite how free you may think you are, you are still in some way, controlled. Someone makes you angry, you react, control. You fall in love, you would do anything, control. As emotionless as I wish to be, as cold and distant as I have become…the clenching of my fists, reminds me, I am still bound.

"Is something wrong?"

Old man asks, seeing my fists clenched tight and my teeth nearly ripping the filter of my cigarette. There is no correct response. There is no denying.

"No. I am angry."

"Angry? What made you angry?"

This time, I say nothing. I relax my mind to the best of my abilities, and focus on walking. Simply walking, and nothing more. I do not wish to tell him anything, I do not wish to succumb to the primal instincts of men before. Dez is strong, I tell myself. She no longer needs me by her side, she can take care of herself with ease. She is older now, no longer the immature woman she was in the past. I tell myself these things, but my fists still remain clenched.

"Hey? You alright?"

He needs to not pry. I know, that he is only concerned. I understand, that he just wants to help. But I wish, he would simply not ask. There is no good answer to give him, without revealing something of myself. I do not want anyone to know me. No longer want to be associated with Dezbe, the past, or anything. Simply, I just want to exist. Exist on my own terms, not controlled by emotions or by guilt. Freedom from all of this, would be a blessing. I know what I have done in the past, to others. People have fallen victim to my hand, although many undeserving. I have come to terms with that. What I have not come to terms with, is hurting the only person who has held any meaning in my eyes. Who I loved and loved me in return. I do not want to think of it. I want to turn my back, despite the pain. Yet, here I am. Foolishly being controlled by thoughts fueled by old emotions and feelings. Here I am, with no real freedom from anything. Is there, such thing, as being addicted to someone?

"…There are things I have to attend to. We must finish this quickly."

I take the old man by surprise as I make the Brahmin walk faster.

"Hey, hey wait! What is it?"

He pries into me, foolishly, naïve, and yet strangely sincere and kind. Emotions, I have been lacking. Emotions, I have been telling myself I do not miss, but find, I ultimately do.

"A woman."

"Woman problems? I'm no good in that field, but hell I'll listen. Anything you care to share?"

I rest my hand on the Brahmin's pack, walking steady. With one hand, I light another cigarette, as my old one dies out.

"In all my years, I have lacked the normal cycle of human emotions. I have to ask you, old man, is it possible to be addicted to a person, as you are a chemical or drug? Forever chasing something, and yet never fully achieving it, accepting that loss, and then suddenly withdrawing days, or even years, later?"

"You ask a difficult question. Is this due to a particular woman?"

I lower my head as I remove my hand from the Brahmin. Salvation, I had thought, only would meet me in death. Only believed, that I could feel fully free and myself in the sweet release of closing my eyes. Yet, I feel, I am wrong. I am an animal, a monster, and yet with Dezbe, I am a man. I am…purposeful in my killings, meaningful in my words, and thoughtful in my actions. Never, did I feel the strings of the man behind the curtain, when I was with her. Never, felt controlled although it was all I was doing. Condoning and accepting the control, submitting to it. I realize now I did so, because it calmed the ravenous animal I was created to be. That although I was silent, and walked with a big gun, there was a bloodthirsty being inside of me. It came out, when a kill began, and only silenced when the victim's death was evident. With Dezbe…that beast…the beast that makes me cold, unyielding, thoughtless, was quiet. Having purpose, having…release, there was no need, for anything else. Was no need, for killing, for anything, as long as she was safe in my arms.

"Love is a chemical just like any other drug, friend. What happened to this woman? You seem angry. Vengeance?"

"No. Not yet."

"I see. She left you then?"

"No. An occurance happened. I have…been unable to accept responsibility. Unable, to provide for her in ways she rightfully deserves. Knowing, I am different than how she once remembered me to be, I could not bring myself to return to her."

"Well, you waste no time in getting to the point, eh?"

"Now, I feel she is in danger. If not now, than soon will be. The thought…of another man...at first I wanted her to move on. I wanted, her to love another because I was not deserving. Knowing it is a possibility that she may love another, or another man is trying, I cannot help but feel unparallel anger."

"You loved her deeply then? Why not simply go back to her and make your mark? If she loves you as much as you seem to love her, then it should be no problem. Ah, see I told you I wasn't good with this."

"…Because it is a more complicated matter, than simply returning, and the past working out in the future."

With each step, my heart beats. With each beat, anger, yearning, those emotions that drive people back into the arms of others, come forth stronger and stronger. Why, now? Why so far away, after so many days? For a moment I stop walking, the old man and Brahmin stopping with me. Upon a hill, I see the Potomac River far in the distance. Even further the structure of Megaton. If this was not atop a hill, I would see neither. This beast…this…torture…it turns and growls deep inside. In my mind, I hear it all again. I hear it, beating against my skull, painful, hurting. I fall to my knees.

_Stand up! Stand up now! You think because you're a child, we'll take mercy? That we'll take care? Stupid boy! Your enemies will take no mercy. They will _kill_ you without the slightest wink. The outside world, the people, they won't care for you, either! Nothing matters out there, not you. In here, you only matter, if you _prove_ you do._ I can hear them. I can hear, the children around me, screaming. Their cries of pain, it fills me I hear them. I am a child myself. I hear the screams, curling, shrill, all around there's no stopping it. I am helpless. One by one, the ones they disregard, the weak, the ones unworthy the ones too scared…are lined. I cannot shake the noise, or rid my mind of the images. The smell…the smell of burning flesh…

_You are not a person in here. You are not a person out there. You are a number, nothing more. There are thousands more, where you came from. Your parents abandoned you. There is no family. Earn a bed to sleep in. Earn it, and you will have it. We cared for you. Nurtured you. We kept you warm at night, filled your stomach. What in return will you give to us? Stand up, or get in line. _I am too scared. I cannot move. My body shakes. Movement, suppressed by fear. I have never been so scared in my life. Chills of fear, like a cold summer wind. _Stand up!_

I stand. I stand amongst the others. I stand. I shake, fearful, tears streaming down my face. _Stop it! You will not show such emotion!_ I am knocked down by a strong hand. I am angered. I attack the adult, I attack him, and everyone else follows. We are subdued. They decide not to kill me. They decide, my reaction, showed strength and promise, rather than insolence. They make me a monster. I cannot stop the screams in my head. I cannot shake them. _ Kill him! What are you doing! Finish the job! Finish it!_ I kill, for the first time in my life. I kill a boy no older than me. I obey with blood, scars, slices and bruises adorning every part of my body. I obey, because I will die if I do not. Pitted against my own kin. Against the others. Their eyes watch me, a display of strength and obedience for their sick and twisted plots. I feel nothing. I feel…my own blood, trickling from the slices on my hands. My delay, causes a fish-hooked whip to graze my back. Again. Again. Again.

_Stay down! I said _stand down! No…no the pain. The pain I am not a display. I am not…I am not…no. I grab the whip. The silence among the crowd. Among the trainers, the overseers, those who sleep, eat, and train beside me. The hooks dig into my palm, but I hold tight. I stare at the man holding it. He wears a business suit. His tie is black, his shirt is white. His eyes, fill with an emotion, I call 'fear'. _Let go. Let go, subject. You will regret it, if you do not._

And then…then there is warmth. There is warmth along my back, the holes and scars of my past, present. No transformation, can erase them. But the warmth, covers me, and I hear her voice. I hear her ask, as I lie on my stomach. I hear her, and for the first time, I cannot hear, how the children scream.

"Charon? Did it hurt?"

Her fingers are so warm. The night is cold and yet, in this home we have made, her touch is warm. It fills me, and I stiffen as her nails dance in the deeper-than-skin holes created by the hooks.

"Yes. It hurt."

"Does it still hurt?"

I remain silent, in the home, in the night. The moon flows, offering artificial light. Against my back, she presses her lips. They are soft, warm, tender. Her hands, rub, touch, and feel every hole, every scar, from the past, and the recent.

"They won't hurt you anymore. I won't let them."

She says, her delicate frame laying over mine. Her words, go deeper, than the scars on my back. I feel her pressing small amounts of radiation from her water bottle onto the scars. It does not make them go away, but the gesture, covers them. Her fingers touch the back of my knees. I am nearly naked this night. She looks and examines scars and parts, she never looked before. Her hand rests on the back of my knee.

"Did they do this, too?"

"…Yes."

Her hands, her lips, every inch of her grazed every inch of me. Unflinching, showing mercy, showing kindness. I had not known such kindness before. Had not known, what it was like, to feel compassion. I tell her the story. I tell her, of a dark past.

"They prayed I'd stay away. When they discovered it was John who had purchased my contract last, they begged him, to not allow me back. They were scared of me, because they knew. I would kill them, and show them the monster they created. I would make them feel as much fear, as they made me."

"You're not a monster, Charon. You did monstrous things, but you're not a monster. They're the monsters."

"It is of no use to speak of it now."

"It is, because if it was okay, you wouldn't black out."

Can you hear them? Can you hear, how the children weep? Their cries, cut deep. Their pain, penetrating even the thickest of walls. Can you hear them, and smell their burning flesh? _Stand up! Stand up! You ungrateful insect!_ No…no…

"Hey, hey…you alright?"

Opening my eyes, opening them, I see it is safe. Safe. In the Capital Wasteland. It is no longer Washington D.C. It is no longer civilized, and no more do those people exist.

"What happened to you? Are you alright? You just damn fell on your knees and wouldn't stop shaking."

Yes. Yes I remember. I was…I stopped. The monster…the one inside of me. The one created, from the screams and pain of children, woke because it is hungry. No, I do not want…I do not want to kill…only to please old ways.

"…I am sorry."

I say to the old man, as I rise to my feet. He stares at me, at my height, at my body. He realizes the being, I was created to be. I do not want to hurt this man. Dezbe…made everything…right. I look up at the sun, as it turns orange ready to set.

"How far from The Pitt are we?"

"Another half day? Maybe less?"

I stare off to where the Citadel ruins are. To where the remains of my old brethren lie. They were children. Only I can hear them weep. Only I, walk with this cross to bear. I am the last, of thousands trained. I am the best, and the worst, to come from that place. They banished their own creation. I have spent five years, discovering the families of those I had slain. I never tracked down, those who worked there. I never, wondered where it was they vanished to. It is over now, and I can no longer dwell and yet…I can hear it. Weeping children.

"…Are you able to make it the rest of the way without me? There is something I must take care of."

"Yeah I'll be fine. It was good traveling with you. Hey look names' Phil."

I nod my head, and look towards Megaton. They took everything from me. The place, took my parents, normalcy, everything. Even though they are gone and centuries have passed, they still take. From me, they took Dezbe five years ago. I will not let them, take anything more. They have enough. It is time now, even in my last moments, to keep what is rightfully mine. This beast inside me, this bloodthirsty, ravenous, monster I have become deep down, will stay silent. I am not a monster.

"Charon."

I tell the old man as I walk away. The only thing from them I will keep, is my set of skills, my gun, and name. Morten died a long time ago, before the bombs fell and yet still after his birth. He never grew. He never learned. He was dead before he was alive, and alive before he was dead. I am Charon, but I am no monster.


	28. Happiness Doesn't Work

(Dez)

"And _that_ is how I got here and am now talking to you!"

I tell Gob and Zack after arriving in Megaton. It didn't take long after me and Cassidy woke up, since it's sort of a straight line. I told Cassidy to piss off for a bit, while I went to talk to Gob and Zack. Explaining the story to them, though, took longer than I thought.

"That is…one interesting story."

Gob says taking a drag of his cigarette.

"I like the part where Charon came from nowhere. That's badass."

Zack says it as if it's some made-up entertainment. Still, it makes me smile. I wish I had made it up, you know. Wish I had fabricated this entire story to make up for lost time because Charon and I were too busy doing the dirty to really rush back here. But I didn't. It is how it happened, and it hurts just the same.

"Where'd this Cassidy man go, anyways?"

Earlier Gob wanted me to live with him and Zack. He said that my plan might not work, and that I should take safety precautions. He was worried, since my old house was vacant and I conned the keys off of Simms, that Cassidy would do something. I told Gob I take enough precautions and all I need to do is sleep with a gun next to me. He didn't really see the humor in that, and is a bit annoyed with my nonchalant attitude. Truth is, I'm too drained emotionally to care today. I just want one day, thinking that everything will be alright. The world can end again tomorrow, and that'd be fine with me, so long as today I thought only good things.

"Probably home by now. It's not even sunset but he's all sleepy and shit."

"Don't you find it odd he followed you here?"

"No, Gob, I find it completely normal. Of course I do But I can't do much about it now. He's my pawn."

Gob sighs and hands me the bottle of vodka he was sipping out of. I love vodka, but I make sure to take it easy and only sip it. Zack watches from across Gob's workroom, envious of my adulthood. Even though there's no drinking age out here, at all, there's still parents. And Gob is one. Maybe after Gob goes up to bed, I'll give Zack a shot or two. He's probably already lifted a few bottles for himself anyways.

"Dez, have you thought of what may happen if Charon _doesn't_ come hunting him down?"

I shake my head, pushing the bad thoughts away and taking another sip of the vodka. Handing it back to Gob, I sigh. You know, there is such a thing as support. I appreciate Gob's realism in all of this, but I'd like to just hope for a while, even if it isn't going to do me much good.

"I figure though, if that happens I'll just find him again. Cassidy said though, that Charon might be dying."

Both Gob and Zack stare at me. Zack's more worried than Gob, but I'm guessing that's due to knowledge and age. By now Gob's immune to most things, like I am, but he still worries. Just not as openly. I light a cigarette, this is the last thing I wanted to talk about.

"How so?"

Zack asks, moving closer and sitting on the floor between the chairs Gob and I sit in. Shrugging, I look down at him. Looking at Zack, in all his naïve innocence, brings me just a bit more hope than I can bring myself. I want Charon to come back, not just for me, but for Zack, too. He doesn't understand, how much he means to Zack. Doesn't understand that, although we're dysfunctional as hell, this is our family. Gob and Zack, are like the sitcom-related roommates who never leave, whilst Charon and I are the tyrannical couple, deeply-loving, and badass beyond all belief. In my story, everyone has a happy ending. But, everyone has to earn it. Outside, a strong wind hits the house, and makes a colder-than-usual draft creep through the cracks.

"Hm. It's getting cold."

I forget to answer the question about Charon. Really, I just don't want to. Maybe the weather-talk will make everyone forget and understand that.

"When I lived at the shoreline town, we'd have cold days. Nothing like this chill, though. What's going on?"

Inhaling on my cigarette, I look at Gob waiting for my answer.

"It snowed once here. Maybe the seasons are preparing to change like the use to. Dunno. Sleep with some extra blankets tonight."

"Gob I _have_ no blankets. I haven't even been in my house yet, I came straight here. Hey whatever happened to Lily anyways?"

Zack looks back at me while he gets up to look out the window.

"Wasn't Lily that woman who'd never let me play with her kid?"

"Yeah, she was. Actually she left here not too long after you and Charon made house together. Don't know what happened to her."

Gob answers both me and Zack. Another strong wind hits the house, and we cautiously look at one another. Getting up, I join Zack in staring at the window. The sun won't set for a few more hours, but there's graying clouds coming in. It hasn't snowed since that last time, but it feels like it could. The thermometer on the wall, says that it's around sixty degrees the F one. So…that's pretty cold. At least, for what we're use to anyways. My arms catch a chilling draft, and I rub my skin.

"This doesn't look good."

I say, staring at the not-so-happy gray clouds. If it snows soon, and Charon isn't here, then he's out there. He's out there, alone, and cold. His endurance is far better than mine, but I don't care. Think of the one you love most, cold, alone, near-death in a barren Wasteland. It hurts, doesn't it? Knowing, you can't really do anything.

"Snow? I don't remember snow…what's snow?"

Zack looks at me, then at Gob who corks the vodka and sets it on his desk.

"It's like cold Abraxo Cleaner. Very cold, Abraxo Cleaner."

I tell him, staring out at the sky. If it is going to snow, it's going to be later. Although I'm not good at judging weather since all we have is hot, and hotter. Aside from rain. Even then, it's hot.

"It's good the weather is changing though. It's been the same for so long, maybe now this place will grow actual plants."

Gob has sarcasm in there. I catch it. Walking away from the window I sigh. The Wasteland isn't prepared for cold, let alone snow.

"I hope it doesn't snow. Charon's still out there. He'll be cold. You can't build a fire in snow."

I mention to Gob as I sit down. Zack comes over, and sits back on the floor.

"Why not?"

He asks, and Gob and I laugh a bit. There was a time, though, when I didn't know what snow was, either.

"Because it's wet. Like rain, almost. You'll see."

I tell him, putting my cigarette out in an ashtray. Gob watches some people in the shop looking at some weapon modifications. He really should hire someone to stand guard. Not me, though. I have better things to do. Not sure what those things are yet, though.

"I really think you should stay here, Dez. There's no need to go off into your old house with a guy you hardly know. It's a setup for disaster."

"I've had enough disasters to know how to prepare myself for them."

He's worried, I understand that. I can see why, too. After all the things I've gone through, put him and Charon through in the past with my reckless behavior, his worry is justified. It's just, I have this crazy theory. I think that if I stay here, and not in my own, old/new house, that Charon won't come back. Cassidy and I have to be seen together, in the same house. Or at least going into that house. Simply traveling here with him won't be enough, because word will get to Three Dog like it always does that the Lone Wanderer parted ways with the mysterious stranger. If I part ways, Charon won't have any reason to come here. He'll assume I've taken care of myself. No. I still want to be, that damsel in distress, who needs constant rescuing.

I spend a few more hours with Gob and Zack. Gob and I drink a bit more, while Zack just laughs and watches us. He listens to the stories I have, of when Charon and I lived together. I leave out the blackouts, leave out the arguments though few and far between, and only tell him of the more comical moments.

"I went to kiss him once, and he put his hand over my face and pushed me in the dirt."

"Why?"

"I have no idea."

Gob and Zack howl with laughter. They can see that, perfectly, because it's how Charon and I once interacted with one another. Truth is, I can't figure why he did that, but it made the both of us laugh. We always played tricks on one another during the day. If we were out patrolling, making sure no Raiders or wanderers got too close, or out hunting for food. At night, though…it was much more calm and intimate. I don't want to remember those nights. It hurts too much.

"I should get going. It's getting late. I get my own bed tonight!"

"If Cassidy isn't already in it."

Gob gives a wise remark and I promptly give him a love-tap on the back of his head. More laughter from Zack, as I say my goodbyes and venture out. It's cold. Colder, than really, I've ever felt. The wind hurts my neck, the only thing not really covered by the vault suit. This thin material doesn't do much to keep me warm, but Gob gave me a pack full of blankets and old sweaters to keep warm in. I'm not sharing with Cassidy, either.

"If it's going to snow, it better hurry up because I hate the cold."

I say to no one as I light a cigarette with shaky hands. The wind blows my lighter out a few times, but I get it. Slowly walking, because I know Cassidy is home and I don't want to see him, I gaze out over Megaton. I'm taking the long way, up past the saloon. You know, just so I can have some alone time. Alone time Cassidy robbed from me, the bastard. I've never seen Megaton in the snow.

It was beautiful, even though it was cold, the last time it snowed here. Charon and I had a ball-of-snow fight. I smile, remembering it. The warm memory, chases away the chills for a minute. I don't feel so alone, when I think of times like that. The string-lights of Megaton guide me on my walk, and I'm reminded of how tied to this place I am. It's almost, like a second vault.

"Hey…Charon…I'm thinking of you tonight."

I whisper between clouds of smoke coming out of my mouth. People pass me, silent, with no words or a second glance. It doesn't bother me, I don't care about them. I come to the saloon, and stare up at it. This is where it all began, really. Almost seventeen years ago, I'm guessing, maybe more. I came to this very saloon, a bit scared, stupid, and inexperienced. I met Gob here, the first nice person, the first smiling face. Well, he wasn't smiling but, he was nice to me. This is where, I first came, when the vault door closed behind me, and when my life changed entirely.

Another cold wind hits me hard, and I shiver. Getting back inside my house should be my main priority, not having a dandy trip down memory lane. Shaking my head, I focus on the right now, instead of tomorrow. Right now, I'm safe in Megaton where Charon told me to go. Right now, I'm walking home, with hopes that soon I'll see him again. Right now, I'm a bit stupid, and a lot foolish, for thinking these things. Right now, I don't really give a fuck. I just want to hope.


	29. Trust Me, I've Got A Plan

(Cassidy)

She's strong, that girl. You know, back when she first came to town, I had no idea how…insufferable she was. There wasn't a damned inkling in my mind, that she was this hung up on some ghoul mercenary, and there certainly was no notion of how goddamned stubborn she is. She talks to me like I'm below her on some scale of justice or whatever. Damn woman got rid of me, the second we got into town and holed up in a place called Craterside Supply. I didn't bother going in there after her. I found a small bar at the base of the hill this shit-town is built on and had myself a few drinks. You need a good drink in you, to think clearly.

Even with Dez's insufferable, immature and downright spoiled attitude, I can't help but feel highly attracted to her. Ain't my problem, hell I'm just a man. Not gonna lie, though. The other night when we camped out near that river she looked so damned…_innocent_. Probably the only time she can look like that is when she's sleeping and all hell ain't breaking loose. And her goddamned mouth isn't running. Tried to threaten me with the notion that this ghoul-guy is gonna come back here chasing after her like she's stupidly chasing after him. It don't scare me much, though. I ain't met someone yet who can outdraw me. Pistols and revolvers are my specialty. Ain't like I'm lookin' to take this woman from him, anyways. Them scars, as interesting and beautiful as they make her, run deeper than I want to deal with. Seems this woman is a clingy type, and I ain't flying for that.

I did come all the way down here, though. Gotta understand I came here thinkin' this woman was in danger and I'd be the one to rush in at the right moment and rescue her. Didn't happen that way, though. I'm thinkin' I'm the one who needs the rescuing at this point. Got myself stuck in a deal with a crazy woman who is self-absorbed and obsessed with a ghoul. I can't leave, either, because I know she won't hesitate to pull a gun on me. On our way here we ran into a band of Raiders and the woman killed 'em all without so much as breaking a sweat. I knew those scars came from something, I just didn't know she was that heartless. Granted their Raiders but, you don't act like she did unless you rightfully enjoy the thrill of killin'. I've never enjoyed a kill. Always only killed when it was necessary, and not because I wanted to. Shit. This place has some crazy people in it.

I am a bit disappointed that Dez ain't like how I thought she would be. I knew she was tough as steel, but I didn't think she'd be crazier than a junkie. Figures I always wanna chase after the ones who don't need me. Ain't much I can do now, cept be mad at myself for assuming. What a woman though. What a fucking woman. I don't know what her deal is, thinking she needs this ghoul and all. She's perfectly capable of being on her own just fine without anyone's help. I've seen that first-hand. But then when I asked that today she all went into some tangent about love. Personally I think the ghoul bullshitted her to fuck a smoothskin. Ain't it what they all wanna do anyways? I hate ghouls, personally.

I don't know what I'm gonna get out of all of this. I don't think this guy is gonna come lookin' for her on account of something as stupid as her being with someone else. Even if it ain't real, I can't imagine any man wanting to spend the remainder of their lives with this girl. Shit, I mean, I'll do her and hang around so long as the giving's good but the first sign of danger or I get a 'no' and I'm outta here faster than someone bein' chased by a Jumper. Maybe I'll let her know my opinion when she gets back here. Nice little shack of a house, guess no one here thought of rebuilding them old remnants of pre-war homes like they did in my town. Pretty stupid you ask me, but then again, I ain't one to judge.

It's colder here, too. Didn't expect the wind to be this harsh. I can feel it through the goddamned cracks in the walls. I came home bout an hour ago, after I filled my stomach with drink and food. Food here ain't bad, but, maybe I'm just partial to home. Still, I ain't expecting to stay in this shack much longer. Too cold up here, too cold and damn I hate the drafts. Least in a pre-war home you ain't got much of those.

"Cassidy? You here?"

Yeah, yeah I'm here. Took the bedroom with the couch, figure I could be a bit chivalrous. Give it another go. As crazy as that woman down there is, I can't deny she's gorgeous. And that voice. Damn that hot and deep voice. It turns me on just thinkin' about it let alone hearing it. Nasty scar along her thought, though. Don't wanna ask where she got it from, I don't care to. Maybe before when I didn't know much about her, but now I particularly don't want to know anything about her. Personality-wise she's not my slice of Deathclaw Egg omelet.

Getting up off my ass, I go to walk down the steps and see her. Gonna give her a talkin' to about this whole situation she dragged me into.

"Yeah, I'm here."

I say as I start walkin' down the steps. I light a cigarette, and notice she's busy doin' something. Digging through that pack of hers, pulling out blankets and sweaters of the sorts. Some instant meals, too. Didn't know she had money to buy all that.

"Where'd you get this shit from?"

Dez smacks my hand away as I try to reach for a blanket. I hold my temper even though I ain't likin' it when people swat at me. Especially women.

"Gob. It's mine. You'll have to buy your own things."

"Who the hell is Gob?"

"My best friend. He owns the only trade shop in this town."

"That ghoul that came and scooped you up?"

"Yeah that's him."

Ah yeah I remember now. He was the one who came strolling down into my town and took one of the folk. Folk being her. I met him in her kitchen, girl can't keep a clean house if her life depended on it. There's a small sofa she's putting all her belongings on, I'm guessing it's from the previous owner.

"You sleeping on the couch?"

I notice as she pulls on a sweater that it's neatly made up like a bed.

"Yeah."

"What? Don't trust me?"

"Nope."

If it's one thing I hate it's blunt and vicious women. Sure some fight is good in everyone but this girl has too much of it. I can't imagine the reason this ghoul fellow left was for any other reason besides annoyance. Fed up, really. Gotta keep my cool though. It's only a matter of time before this woman hands it over to me. Figure it's been a long while since she's been with a man, and everyone's got urges. Hell think I came all this way just to hold hands and get hollered at? I been wanting to know her and bed her since she walked in with that curvaceous and scarred body of hers.

"Hey Dez I was hopin' to talk with you about something?"

She sits down on her little bed of a sofa and I sit in a chair near hear. Comfy chair, might I add. Dez pulls out two beers from her pack before tossing it, now empty, across the room. She hands me one and I take it. Another drink ain't gonna kill me.

"What's about?"

I don't answer right away because I'm too damned busy staring at how she wraps her mouth around the tip of the bottle. I got something better she should wrap her mouth around, but I gotta keep this slow. Getting a woman to stay around and not panic takes work. Once I got her, though, she ain't goin' much of anywhere.

"Listen, Dez…I been thinkin' about this plan you cooked up. You really thinkin' he's gonna come all the way back here?"

Surprisingly, she don't answer me right away. Figure the girl would have some quick-witted answer to shut me up be she don't. She jus' sits there and toys with her beer bottle like it's gonna shatter if she holds it too hard.

"…You know, why is everyone trying to bring me down today? I just wanted to believe, that for once a half-assed scheme of mine would work. That maybe there'd be some hope, you know? But even Gob isn't letting me live in this little fantasy of mine."

"Finally realizing that this wasn't a grand idea?"

Dez shakes her head and takes another sip of her beer. I do too, because this place does have some decent liquor.

"I don't know, Cassidy. I really just wanted to believe he still loved me, I guess. Or not even that. I think, in the end, I just wanted to think that all this hurt would matter for something. It doesn't matter for anything, if Charon doesn't come back."

"Jus' figuring maybe it's time you say goodbye. Let go and find yourself someone better. I know you're thinkin' that's impossible but maybe you haven't met the right man just yet."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"Well I can't sit and wait around till you're ready to talk. I'm stuck here with you. Best start toying with the idea that just maybe you two ain't right for one another anymore."

She looks at me and I feel some sort of scared. A woman ain't never put fear in me, but she…she can do it. Those eyes of hers hide a lot of secrets, and I'm not too keen on finding them out.

"I've thought about it all. And still, I think he loves me. I still think, he's coming for me."

"Well then no offence but you're actin' like a fool."

"There's no difference between a man and a fool when love is involved."

"I wouldn't know."

"Never been in love?"

"Nope."

"Then don't tell me what Charon will and will not do. You don't know him, you don't know me. You should be worrying about what he's going to do when he finds you here, and more worried if I'm pissed at you the day he comes back."

I set my beer down and stand up.

"You gonna threaten me?"

"I'm gonna do whatever the _fuck_ I want to do."

She flashes the sawed-off at her side. I ain't stupid. I know that thing is more powerful than my revolver. As long as she keeps that gun clipped to her waist she has the upper hand. A shot from my gun will slow her down, taking a bullet from hers will kill me if not leave me limbless. I give her points, for being smart and carrying a powerful weapon.

"Let's no start an argument, Dez. You need me, and I need a place to stay till this cold front passes."

"If he's not back in two weeks, then you can kindly take your ass back to the town you came from. You're not here on invitation, Cassidy. Remember that."

"I don't remember you being this vicious a month or so back."

"I don't remember having someone trying to pass opinion and judgment on me and Charon a month or so back."

That's what gets her. That's what I've been diggin' for. Ya know, the weak spot. The place we all have and ain't no one knows about.

"Alright fair enough. Goodnight Dez."

She says nothin' but I don't need to hear it. I know what gets to her. See, I didn't think it was such a big deal when I found her here. Figured in a day's time she'd be over it and searching for something else. Girl never seemed to be one of them devoted women. I mean jus' lookin at her you'd think she's one of them black widow types. At the end of the day though, she's still a woman, and a woman still has needs just as a man does.

Heading up to my room I shut the door and figure how I can use this to my advantage. At the most I have two weeks, to pry her thoughts from the ghoul long enough to make my own suggestions to her. Once I can do that, then I got all the time in the world. After all, from what she's been sayin' to me the ghoul made it quite clear that there'd be no more of 'them' in the future. She don't seem like she's much different than most other women who go around killin' shit, so I can't think she's anything special to him. Wonder what it was about him that made her this crazy. Hell a woman that deep in the hole, gotta be somethin'.

She said though that he protected her. Could be some sort of father-complex but I ain't gettin' myself into a mess like that. I just need a good lay and a woman to do it with until both of us get bored. Ain't much substance or specialty required there. Dez can get the job done, she looks like the type of woman to be a good lay. But I've been proven wrong about her since she left with that ghoul, so assuming wouldn't be in my best interest. Still, sex is sex in my book. Just hope at the end of the night the girl is worth it.


	30. I Know You're Wounded

(Dez)

I started out, with hope, and with faith, that Charon would come back. I put my best foot forward, in thinking that maybe, this one time, I would be right about something. That maybe, luck would work in my favor just one last time, and he'd come back to me. I even bargained with luck. Said, that he just had to come back. It didn't matter, if it was for me, or for his own reasons. I just wanted to see him. I just wanted, to get him alone, and talk to him. It would be okay, even if in the end he decided not to stay with me. It'd be okay, because I'd be able to see him one last time. I tried to tell myself that…he simply wandered too far, and was having a hard time getting back in this horrible cold.

But as the days pressed on, I began to realize…that what I was hoping for, was soon growing further and further away. My positive outlook, soon fell victim to the bad thoughts, to the doubt that was always in the back of my mind. I started to believe, that Gob and Cassidy were right when they first said it was kind of stupid of me, to hope so much. I started to think that maybe, the story of Charon and Dezbe, was over for good, and the book of our lives together was going to be forever closed. Still, I tried to hold on. Tried, to think that hope was not all lost. I reminded myself of Pandora's Box, and how even against all the odd and horrible things that had happened, there was still hope. I wanted to believe in it so much. Wanted, to believe, that somewhere out there, was the man who loved me and wanted nothing more than to stand by my side. I wanted to believe it so badly, that I did.

It's been seven days, since I got back to Megaton with Cassidy, and since I told myself that tomorrow would be better than today. I'm not sure, tomorrow holds such promises anymore. I wake up in the middle of the night, on the couch in my living room, calling out his name in whispers. Even in my dreams, Charon to me, is unattainable. I can't figure, why it haunts me so much. Why I can't even find peace, in my own sleep. The days, are filled with nothing but waking, and finding something important enough to distract my mind. Most of the time, my efforts are dry, and I end up freezing myself hanging outside the gates looking for him. Even if the odds are against me now, even if there's little to no chance of him coming back, I still want to hold on.

Through all of this, Gob and Cassidy and Zack have been supportive. Gob sees me, sleep-deprived, sad, just like I was when he found me at the shoreline town. He realizes now more than ever, how much Charon means to me. At first, their hopeful words and phrases made me smile a bit. I thought that if others believed it too, than I wasn't so crazy. And also, that it would come true. But it hasn't, and the words that once made me smile, now just seem empty and vast. As if they're simply trying to let me down easy. Maybe, though, they just don't want to accept it, either. I know, Gob felt in the end Charon would do what was right by me. He's let down, too. He's upset, because the friend he thought he knew, isn't acting in the ways people want him. He's upset because he can see now, how much it hurts me firsthand. Gob…he's never wanted to see me this way. I feel bad, that I let this happen.

Knowing, that I brought my friends down with me in this, hurts. I never meant for it to turn out this way. I had foolishly believed that by some long stretch of luck and faith, Charon would come. He'd come after hearing that I was with someone else, and all would be right in the world again. By him not coming, and my efforts of hoping, I've put a damper on everyone. They see how upset I am, and they know there's nothing they can do. I think, at this point, they just want me to get over it. They never say it, but…it's just how I feel. Maybe, it was better for me to stay away. Maybe, they're regretting ever tracking me down. I hope they are, because maybe then I wouldn't feel so bad if I left again. After all, if I'm alone, then no one can hurt me. It's a price to pay, but…I've paid it before.

The cold front lasts longer than anyone expected. But there's still no snow. The sun has been hidden behind gray clouds for a week, but no snow. No nothing, really, except gray days and cold air. There's fewer people out these days, in Megaton and out of it. I don't see as many Raiders as I do when it's warm. Probably, because right now everyone just wants to figure out how to survive this weather. No one knows if this is a permanent thing, but if it is, we have to adapt to it. To be honest, I'm sick of adapting. I'm really sick, of doing things just to survive. Maybe if I just came back here from Rivet City without over analyzing any situation I wouldn't be this depressed. But I didn't do that. Instead I just ran into it headstrong only thinking of my own selfish wants and needs. I didn't think about how my acting would affect Gob, or Zack. I'd throw Cassidy in there, but no one cares about him. Even if he's been kind and supportive lately, I still don't think much of him.

I decided when I woke up today, I wouldn't talk to Gob or Zack. I think those two need a break from me and my proverbial black cloud. After all I have some planning to do. In the beginning I didn't think two weeks was a long time, but when it drags like this, it feels like an eternity. Lasting another week here, seems impossible to me. All I'm doing, is secluding myself like I always do when things get bad for me. I know I should stop it. I know, that one of these days I should wake up and see the bright side of everything, but I can't. I just can't. I don't know where I'm going to go, when I'm going to leave, or what I'm going to do when I get there, I just know right now I can't bring anyone else down with me. When I leave this time, I'll do it properly. With goodbyes and explanations. Maybe if I do that, they won't come find me, and then…they won't have to deal with the repercussions of everything.

I think I want to stay here, long enough to see the snow. I figure that…if I can last the cold front, and maybe the snow, it'll be easier for me to leave. Heading out on my own in this type of weather, wouldn't be smart. I'd die not halfway out of range of Megaton. Dying alone in the cold, isn't how I want to die. I may deserve it in some aspect, but, I don't want to. I like the warmth of the sun. I want the sun to shine. Maybe if it did, I'd smile a bit.

Cassidy went out this morning, and I've been alone all day. The only entertainment, slightly, I've had is tinkering and fixing my Pip-Boy. Electronics always distract me in one way or another. Mainly because you need to concentrate with what you're doing to them. It's an easy thing, for me to fix a burnt-out Pip-Boy light, but I let myself think it's a bit more difficult. It gives my mind a chance to relax, and focus on something other than Charon, or anyone else for that matter. When it's done, though, I find I have nothing else to do. When you have no purpose, and nothing on your agenda, and you're like me, you find yourself a bit empty and sick of being bored.

It's late in the day, though. I heard over Three Dog that the winds are getting pretty bad. Due to the walls of Megaton, we don't really feel much wind. Most of the time it comes off as a breeze, and not much stronger than that. I think I'm still hoping, because with how the weather has been, I have this notion that Charon is simply…waiting out the storm. But I wonder how long I can toy with that idea, before I realize it's stupid, too.

Grabbing a sweater from a wanderer outfit, I slide it on and walk outside my house. It's colder than it has been, but, I don't think much of it. Making sure my gun is strapped to my waist, I light a cigarette, and put on my hood. I want to sit outside the gates, if only for a minute. Lately it's become a thing of freedom, as well as hoping to see Charon. When you're stuck inside walls, even if those walls aren't keeping you in anywhere, you feel trapped. Megaton has walls, so even when I leave my house I'm still inside. I don't like it, and I think that's one of the reasons I could never stay here for too long. After being walled inside a vault my whole life, the thought of being free and having nothing blocking me from the outside, is more attractive than even a walled city where I can come and go as I please. After all, I don't care much for safety.

The gates are harder to push open, because of the wind. I can't get them as open as I want, so squeezing through is a pain. I manage, though, because I'm thin enough to fit in small places. Three Dog was right. The wind out here howls, whips, and is colder than I've ever felt before. My hood doesn't do much, to protect me against the harsh elements, but I'm determined. I want to sit and watch like I've always done, without having to fall victim to something as stupid as wind. It's just wind, it can't hurt me.

Looking out across the barren and vast land, I notice the dust isn't swirling around like it usually does. Maybe the cold somehow froze all the dirt to the ground. Still, I expect to see something. What I don't see is the monument in the distance. I'm sure the wind, even with the ruins protecting the city, must have knocked the light out or something. I know it's still there, though. Whoever built that thing built it to last, and I'm glad they did. Too bad you can't live in there, because I would totally do that. I would live in that monument, and make it my own.

My hands are soon numb from the cold. My lips and face follow soon after. I haven't been out more than fifteen minutes when this all begins to take place. The small puddle and area of radiation not far from where the Deputy Weld once stood looks…frozen, almost. I've never seen something frozen like that before. Instead of going over and checking it out, I decide to hang back. At least the overhang of the Megaton structure provides some sort of cover from the wind. If it's this bad with shelter, I don't want to know what it's like without.

But my mind doesn't stay focused on that long, because like I always do, I think of Charon. I think of him, out there, alone in this. There's no reason for me to worry about his health, he's perfectly capable of surviving this on his own, and I'm sure he'd do better than most folk in Megaton. It's the fact that he's alone, bothers me. No one deserves that, especially in this. If I was alone, in this stupid and cold wind, I'd…well, I'd cry, really. I'd feel abandoned and hopeless and a whole bunch of other things. I'd want someone to sit with me, and I wouldn't care who it was. As long, as they want to sit and talk with me. Charon, though, is different. He's a true loner, more than I could ever want to be. He can survive against all the odds and is perfectly fine on his own. Maybe it's just that ageless love I have for him, that makes me feel sad, when I think of him by himself.

I don't know if I exhale smoke, of it's just my breath. Looking down at my hands, I feel that cold nostalgia run through me, as I remember the ball-of-snow fight, and how even on nights cold like this, with Charon, I didn't feel cold, and I didn't feel alone. If he is truly near the end of his life, I hope somehow, he doesn't feel as lonely as I do. I hope he can find some comfort in our memories, and that will keep him warm on nights like this. I'll freeze to death if I have to, to make sure he sleeps warm. Maybe I'm stupid but, I think loving someone, means thinking of them more than you think of yourself, and letting yourself go without so they can go with. There's a lot more, too, but, that's just my small tidbit.

You can't help, the changes of life. People will always walk in and out of your life. Some of them, you notice and others you don't. Then…there's people like Charon. Your first love. The person who came in, looked at the mess of yourself, and helped cleaned it up. Even if most of the time all they do is shove everything in the closet, you still look cleaner. Brighter. Happier. When they leave, though, that mess comes back out. I know, Charon forgives me. His leaving has little or nothing to do with what I did. Strangely, though, I don't take comfort in that. Because inside, I still want to be there for him. I still want to know what exactly bothers him, and I want to fix it, too. Because I love him. And when I love, I want to do all I can, to make that person happy, despite what I have to put my own self through.

The wind picks up, growing stronger and stronger by the slow passing minutes. But I don't want to go inside right now. I want to keep my hope alive, for as long as I can. As long as there's still hope, than I still have reason for being here. Then…I don't look so stupid, by coming back with the thoughts that Charon will come home. Tears well in my eyes, and they fall down my cheeks in silence, leaving behind only a small water stream that stings against the cold. I wonder if maybe, the river is frozen? I have no intention of going and seeing, but it's a curious thought. I never felt this cold, when Charon stood beside me, you know. Even in the snowfall so many years ago, I wasn't as frozen as I am now. Back then, we talked about being outcasts together. About going out in a blaze of glory, because to us, it seemed like the only thing to do. Then we became domestic, and that calm state, brought the worse out in him. If I have to, I'll give up the want to settle down, if it means keeping him.

Over time, I don't know how long or short it's been, the wind picks up and starts to toss around empty barrels. It whips violently against the walls of Megaton, and hisses as I hear it seep through the cracks. Like putting water on a hot surface. Around me, ironically, is the story of mine and Charon's life together. I know right now, it's probably dangerous to be out with the wind hitting this hard, but, I don't care. Tonight, might be the night he comes back. It might be the one chance I get to see him passing by, and to miss that because of some stupid weather, isn't in my agenda. There's no one on the horizon, though. No one as far as the eye can see. No wanderers or Raiders, caravans or anything. It's just empty. Maybe there's hope, though.

"Dezbe! What are you doing?"

I hear Cassidy calling behind me, and I turn around. He's using most of his strength to keep the gates of Megaton open, and only has his head poking out.

"Waiting for Charon!"

Against the noise of the wind we have to yell to one another. I don't make any notion of stepping closer. I don't want to go inside right now. I'm freezing, and can't feel my hands. My cigarette falls from the tips of my fingers and the wind takes it away. I don't care. They're too cold to hold on to it anyways.

"It's getting dangerous out! Come back inside!"

"No! I have to wait for Charon!"

Cassidy's hat blows away and out the entrance and into the Wasteland. I make no move to chase it, and neither does he.

"Dezbe, he's not coming! Come inside you're going to freeze!"

"No! You're wrong! He might come tonight!"

"Come inside!"

"No!"

Cassidy slips out of the gate, leaving it open just enough to squeeze back through. He comes up to me, his nose red from the cold, his face sick and tired of hearing my protests.

"Let's _go_! You're going to get hurt!"

"He might come tonight!"

"He's _never_ coming back!"

Up until now, Cassidy has been supporting me in this. He's been offering words of wisdom and helping Gob with the chore of cheering me up. But right now, it doesn't seem like he's supporting me. Hearing, out loud from someone else, that Charon is never coming back…really…really hurts me. I have no reaction to it. Nor do I have any reaction to Cassidy grabbing my arm, and dragging me back into Megaton. All I can think of really, is that maybe for once, he's right.

The wind is almost silent inside Megaton. You can hear it, echoing above the opening and slamming against the side, but it's not nearly as bad as it is outside. The steel that holds up the place, blocks it, and protects the homes and people in it from falling victim to the elements. The silence…I don't like it too much.

"You alright?"

Cassidy asks me, as I blankly stare at my feet. They're so cold. My entire body, is so cold. I can't move, even if I wanted to. I don't want to, and I don't want to look at him. I can't face him, because he's right…and…and I don't want to hear that he is.

"Come on, let's get you inside."

Wrapping his arms around me, Cassidy leads my cold and quiet body towards the Megaton house. I first shared that home with Charon. It was the beginning of our relationship, and it holds so many intimate memories. He kissed me there, I think, for the first time. Back then I wasn't sure if it was a kiss, and even now I don't know. Still, his lips grazed the scar on my neck, while his hands were shoved up my shirt, and he told me of how he didn't mean to ever hurt me like that. Back then, any injury I got, even if it was all my fault, Charon somehow blamed himself for. Back then, neither one of us had any idea, how deeply involved we would become with one another.

"You're damn near frozen. Here sit down, I'll warm up some water for you."

Cassidy gets me inside the house, and I sit on my sofa-bed. I still haven't moved up to my old/new room. Mainly because, I still don't really trust Cassidy. I can sleep without a gun to my waist, but down here I can hear him if he comes down the stairs. It gives me just enough time to grab my gun, and make sure nothing happens. He's never tried anything though. All he's been really, is nice and patient.

Wrapping a blanket around my shoulders, I watch as Cassidy goes into the kitchen to heat up a cup of water on the stove. Even though it's just hot water in a cup, it warms you inside. I stopped wearing my vault suit, because in this cold the material is too thin to keep me warm. I'm wearing a wanderer outfit, I can't tell you what kind, but it has a sweater. I'm still cold, but it's better than the suit.

"You know, I'm sorry for what I said out there. I ain't got no right to say things like that."

I don't want to talk right now. I want to sit here, and swallow the hard truth that is Charon may never come back. But, the silence is killing me.

"No…you're right."

I say to him as he walks back into the living room. He hands me a hot cup, and I hold it in my hands. They're defrosting, and the warmth of the cup helps. When I can feel my fingers, I light another cigarette and hold the cup below my chin. The steam warms my face.

"Dez, don't get so down on yourself. Hell maybe you're right. He might come back tonight."

"When are you all going to stop fooling me?"

"Excuse me?"

I shake my head and look away. Hiding tears from him, I take a deep breath of my cigarette, and exhale it off into the kitchen.

"When is everyone going to stop…stop feeding my stupid ideas and just tell me the truth? Just…tell me what no one else will? How long…how long can everyone let me kid myself into thinking he'll come back?"

"Dez, it ain't kiddin' anyone if you believe it."

"I'm kidding myself. You're right, Cassidy. He's never coming back."

He pats my knee reassuringly, but I don't want to be touched. Standing up, I leave my cup on the table, and lean against the doorframe to the kitchen. I can't even look him in the eye right now. With the back of my hand, I wipe away tears on my cheek.

"Don't be so hard on yourself. Listen, we understand. I don't know much, but from what you tell me, he loves you. Hell I'd hope too. You said it yourself, he loved you. There's still a chance."

"Forget everything I said. Just forget it. For once, I have to learn how to be on my own, without him as my crutch."

"You don't have to do it tonight."

"I can't take anymore of this. I can't keep…hoping for tomorrow. If I don't face the truth tonight…I won't ever face it."

I hear him get up. Cassidy comes over, and wraps his arms around me. I can't help myself right now. I burst into sobs, and turn to face him. Burying my head in the lining of his jacket, I cry out five years of pain. Five years, of pent up anguish, and a week of insufferable hope and dreams.

"It's alright. Don't cry."

"I'm still just a kid, aren't I? I haven't grown…I still…always need someone and…now I'm alone…"

It always raining in my head, when I'm alone. It's always so dark, and scary, when there's no one there to hold up a light. I try to be so strong. I try to act like I never need anyone, and that I can laugh just fine on my own. But…truth is I'm lying. I always need someone. Always, need a friend or lover to come in and pick up the pieces. I could never be alone in New Vegas, and I always had someone beside me. Even if they weren't Charon, they were a friend.

"You ain't alone, you got friends here, and I'm here right now."

It just makes me cry harder, and I grip the edges of his duster-like jacket. I cry for attention, and yet, when I get it I hide from it. Because I want to pretend, like I don't need it. Like I'm independent and self-sufficient. Nothing can be further from the truth.

"I just wanted to pretend…like I wouldn't be alone in the end."

I feel him kiss the top of my head, and then…suddenly, all my emotions pause. My crying, my distress, my sadness, gets put on hold. Lifting my head, I look up at Cassidy. I'm more shocked, surprised, than scared.

"…Don't do that."

I say to him, pressing my back against the wall.

"You said you didn't want to be alone."

My gun is across the room. He hasn't made any advances towards me, and for all I know his act could have been purely innocent. It could have gone without, though. He didn't need to do that, and make me cautious. The last thing I want to be right now is cautious.

"…I don't want to be."

"Then come here. It's alright."

…I promised Charon my heart. I thought he needed me. The house shudders against the wind. I wanted, nothing more, than to be with him forever. Even if he forgot me, he would still always, have my heart. I thought…Charon promised to keep my heart. I thought when I said 'forever', he knew I meant it. I thought a lot of things, back then and still now. I guess, I'm just stupid.


	31. Fall to My Arms

(Charon)

The wind is colder than ice. It hits my bare skin, angry, merciless, but I do not seek shelter. Tonight, is one of the coldest nights of the week. Tonight, there is no one running rampant in the Capital Wasteland. Tonight, loved ones hold one another tight, praying, hoping, that soon this frightful wind will lift. Without hope, they have fear. Together, alone, they fear they will not last. They fear, that there will be no waking.

Instead of hiding, instead of seeking some place for my tired body to rest, I continue on. Blood stains the front of my armor. It is not mine. The monster inside of me, needed to be fed. Needed to be silenced. I cannot face Dez, when inside, this beast is screaming and clawing at me from the inside out. For me, tonight holds far more, than simply surviving. Tonight, I will enter Megaton, and face the woman I have been running from for years. Tonight, I take back the last shred of normalcy, of life, that the place I was raised in took from me. Tonight, is a special night. I am coming home again. I am coming home, and I will show no mercy, to those who stand in my way.

The Wasteland is not lit by anything. There is no moon, and the stars are hidden behind thick, gray clouds. Yet, it does not hinder me. I trained, for such elements as this. Trained, to work with no light, and trained to navigate. I am sure, my trainers would have never dreamed, that their most successful subject, would utilize their skills for these reasons. That I would survive the bombs, live to tell of the horrors they committed. They never dreamed, that I would live to seek revenge, on all they took from me. Although there is no more revenge to seek, with time as everyone's enemy, I will no longer let them take from me.

Once again, there is pain. There is hurt inside my chest, there is regret, but there is no fear. The cries of the children, fall silent to the memory of Dezbe. To the thought, of being in her arms again. There is no fear, and there is no more haunting, of the past that did not die with the bombs. I walk though these winds, without the slightest shift. Without letting it force me back, as if even now there are forces working against me. Nothing, will stand in my way. I have waited, delayed, far too long. Falling to distractions, to Raiders, to people wishing to interrupt my task, I spent far too much time in returning. I have spent, far too much time running. I will not run anymore.

My body is tired. My bones, they are near their breaking point. Still, I force myself onwards. I push myself, with the hope that Dez's warm and open arms, will greet me upon my return. The thought, of simply seeing her again, is enough for me to lift a tired and heavy foot onwards. To take another step, to continue on, to not fall and let my past win, as it has for five years. The wind stings my eyes, and creates tears. I blink them away, although some of them still fall. With each one that escapes, I feel the pain of a whip stretching across my back. Feel the hard hand of what they called 'justice' and 'discipline' knocking against my cheek. Against this pain, those memories of fear at showing emotion, I keep moving. I know soon, they will be in the past. In the past, just as everything else is. Just as my previous thoughts were.

I was blinded, by the past. My mind was closed, and I returned to the place where I felt most comfortable being. I returned, to being a monster. In the wake of all that had taken place between Dezbe and myself, I believed it to be better. Believed that if I was away I could do her no harm. Yet, in staying away, I caused her more harm than I ever intended. Understand I did not know. I did not know what it was like, to have a person care for me. To have someone willing to die for me at an instance, and share a smile with me. Never, was I seen as an equal. Although time and time again Dez showed me she cared, and time and time again I returned everything and fell into the human cycle of emotions, I was still fearful. Still testing the waters, of what normalcy was. Of what it meant to be a human. What it meant, to be a man.

Fear is what drove me back. Fear, that I had harmed the only person I ever let close. The only person who wanted to get close, and share with me the painful things of life, and also, the most beautiful. It was that fear, that made me leave. That let her leave. Fear, that caused me to stay away. I cannot be fearful anymore. I must understand, that Dez does not fear me in the same way, as I fear her. The way that I feared my trainers. Her being beside me is no one's choice but her own. Comprehending the idea, that someone loved me so deeply…I expected to be lashed and punished at every turn. Expected, a trainer of my past to somehow, although impossible, come and snatch her away. All I wanted, was to protect her from them. Protect her, from the past and from myself. Never did I intent, to have it end this way. To have it come to this. I have only myself to blame.

_That is a disgusting feature, and something you all need to learn to _never_ succumb to. Those are the traits of a failure, they are punishable by death. And may I remind you, that we are capable of showing each and every one of you, that there are far worse things than death._ They talked of arousal as if it was a sin. As if, we were never meant to feel it, and we were dirty for it. I felt disgusting, when the natural ways of becoming a man began to make themselves known in my body. I forced it away. I forced it deep down inside, and never permitted myself to feel pleasure from it. If I failed, they made sure, to reinforce that punishment. It is not dirty. It is not…anything they taught us. Feeling arousal, feeling the tender feelings of love, lust, and desire, is nothing short of human nature and ultimately beautiful, if nothing more. It was something, I made Dez suffer for. When I was the one to blame. When each time before our first, I allowed my body to feel any act of pleasure, I was reminded of the searing pain. When the act happened, when I could no longer suppress the urges by the memories of torture, I realized for the first time…the insanity of the place that I knew as my only home. I was never, allowed to feel simple arousal, and when going through puberty, it affected how I would love. How I would react, to having someone like Dez in my life. Their simple training at wiping such a normal act from all of us, was smart. Simply, because with that act comes many more things, feelings, emotions. I was unable to feel, to grow, emotionally and physically. I continued to feel a slight pain, with each sexual situation Dez and I found ourselves in. I do not think, that it will ever leave me.

The most simple of things, molded and created the person I am now. Going hungry for days as both punishment and survival technique, taught me to eat quickly, and share nothing. Yet…upon first meeting Dezbe, I gave her the larger piece of meat. I handed to her, openly, more than I gave to myself. Even though the hunger pains ran deep, and my stomach churned, I offered her one of the things vital to survival. Back then, I could not tell you why I did that. I could not explain, why she was so different than any other employers before me. Now, I have found simply, that it was because she is a woman.

There were females among us in training. Although few, they were there. Perhaps it is instinct, but I have always felt a need to protect them. Protect them, more than I protected my fellow men. Often, I would take punishment or blame, for their mistakes and mishaps. No other man or boy did such things back then. They simply allowed each person to be treated and suffer as an equal. Feelings, arousal, attraction, admiration, those were forbidden fruits of the facility. Yet despite it all, I felt some level of it for the women. For their delicate features that were soon hardened. As I was sold and released into the real world, I saw women as not perhaps lower than man, but better. I deiced when I worked with John, women are beautiful so that men can protect them. It was him who shared that thought with me, and that thought explained why I did such things, to protect the females I trained with.

It was a woman who changed me. A woman, who birthed me. Dez is hardened by this world but she is delicate. When we shared our first meal together, she reminded me of the females I trained with. Her eyes were soft, hiding much more pain in silence than a man ever could. I analyzed her, as I do with everyone. As I did, with all women. Training beside them, once we were taught of reproduction and other things for our education, I felt their bodies should never be put through such rigor. That they are soft in the chest to care, comfort and nurture. Their arms are long, to hold children in, and I learned, mother is the name for God on the lips and hearts of all children. It was Dezbe, and my small gesture of sharing food and protecting women that I subtly learned in the facility, that brought me into my own manhood. That helped me feel, what it meant, to not be a monster.

I would lay my head on her soft chest for comfort. Her arms would wrap around my shoulders, and I felt safe from the past. I never, have been frightful of the world around me, only the memories that exist in my own mind. Within those long arms, there was no need for me to be fearful. She was the shield, keeping it all away from me. Although it was her protecting me, I was protecting her, also. Because if anything came near, what I held so high, they would pay. It is also why, I have learned, men do things against other men. People will say it is jealousy, insecurity, no. No from someone who has been in a terrible place, and spent an entire life feeling nothing…it has nothing to do with insecurity or jealousy. It has, everything to do, with protecting the one thing we find comfort in. The one thing, that we know, will forever love us. I was a fool, to walk away from a woman such as Dez. I was blinded. Horrifically, mistakably, blinded. I wish to never be that way again.

I will beg for her to forgive me when I return. I will grovel on my knees, and take her hand in mine, as I ask for simply one more chance. She deserves a man more than me, more than I can ever be, and I am asking her to love me once again. It was I, who denied her in the tunnels. Who looked upon her tear-stained face and turned my back on it all. Who left her laying comatose in a medical bed, and continued to find my own path. I do not deserve her forgiveness, I will understand if she is angry, but I will still ask for it. I will ask for that, and for her to let me prove myself. Let me stand by her once more, and give her everything it is I have to offer. Although I have nothing, although there is no riches or jewels I can hand to her, I hope what I do have and what we shared in the past, will be enough for her. Even though…I do not deserve anything from her.

Shifting my gaze towards the horizon, I am able to see Megaton. I am so close, and feelings of uneasiness and nervousness pass through me with no mercy. I will arrive in less than an hour, the elements proving to be fruitless in stopping me. I cannot feel my face, my hands, my bare arm. I can no longer feel my feet within my boots, or my legs that guide me, but I will not let that stop me. I have come this far, I have traveled this long, now is not the time for turning back. Now, is not the time for letting my past get the better of me.

There is one thing, I must ask her. One thing, I have to know, despite the outcome of tonight. I have to know, how could she ever love a monster? Never, in all our time spent together, could I understand what it was about me, that made her love me so relentlessly. All I could give to her, was less than she could ever deserve. I do not know, what it was she saw in me. I do not know, how she was able to know nearly everything about me, and still smile. Smile, knowing the horrors I have done. How…she could see the beauty, within the beast. _Your mothers left you, cold and alone. We cared for you. We were the ones, that took each and every one of you in. It is us you owe your very lives to. Us you owe every fiber of your being to. No one, will care for you. No one will show tender feelings you so seek to receive. There is no one out there, who will care for the people you are to become. You do not deserve, after what you have done here, the feelings that you may think exist. You, are all disposable._

No. No he was wrong. The speaker, my trainer, the people running the facility, they were wrong in everything they ever told us. I have found, someone who cared for me. Someone, who saw me as a person rather than a tool. Someone, to quiet the monster they so made of me. I am returning to her, and they…they are wrong. I hope, that whilst they burn in the hell they so deserve they are able to see this. They, are able to witness that one of their 'subjects' has defied all odds once again. I defied their standards when I far proceeded any goal they had set. I struck fear in them, when I showed them what it was they created of me. Now, once again, I defy them and return to face the woman, who loved me against all odds. I hope, whilst they cook and burn that they look up at the cold earth, and see what it is I am returning to. See me, as I reach Megaton, and open the gates with frozen hands. I am home, Dezbe. I hope, you can forgive me one last time.

The wind is silenced to near quiet inside the walls. There are no people walking around, the lights are hardly lit. The cold, has chased everyone inside. Has put them deep beneath blankets and atop beds of soft warmth. I give myself a moment's rest, as I stand atop the hill that makes Megaton. I look at each mute detail, and soak in the essence of nostalgia. I wonder, if anyone here, prayed that I would never come back. A breeze of the wind chills me like a saw's blade, and I take this as a sign, to continue on.

I walk up to Craterside Supply, where Gob and Zack reside. I have not seen Zack. Have not seen how much he has grown, and only remember him as a child. It is another thing, I feel I must apologize for. Zack did nothing wrong, and yet I left him as well. I knew, that he looked up to me in a sense. That he found safety in the presence of the three of us together. I want to make sure, after my business is done with Dezbe, that Zack knows I had no intention of breaking up, the small and broken unit he once called his family. If Dezbe does not allow me another chance, I hope, that Zack will.

Pounding on the door, I make sure I am loud enough to wake Gob if he is sleeping. Without the wind, my body is able to warm itself up. Although it is still cold, it is not as bad. Inside I can hear footsteps. They do not come from the stairs, so I can only assume Gob was not sleeping. I listen closely, until he opens the door. I stare at him, he stares at me, surprised.

"Charon…"

He sighs, as if a weight has been lifted.

"…Where is she?"

I told Dezbe to go home. To come back here, and spend time with Gob and Zack. Time that, like me, she had missed. I do not know if she truly returned, or if she is somewhere out in the Wasteland searching for me. I hope, that she is here. If she is out there, I cannot be certain if she is surviving the weather. That is something, I do not wish to think about.

"Fuck, Charon. You had us all running around like our goddamned heads were cut off…"

He avoids my question, and I ball my hands into fists. I am grateful to see him, he is a friend to me, yet I came here for a purpose. In time, I will be able to return to the Charon he, Zack, and Dez once knew. Tonight, I do not think such a thing is possible.

"Is she here?"

I ask once again, hoping to receive an answer.

"No, no she's not here. I mean she's in Megaton, but she's up at her house. The one you two shared."

"…And the man she travels with?"

"Cassidy? He's there too. Hey wait, don't be jumping to conclusions he's not a half-bad guy look…just…Charon prepare yourself before you see her, alright? Hey you gonna take off again cuz if so just don't even bother going near her. She can't take much else."

She is alone with a man I do not know. Furthermore, Gob has allowed this. I understand my absence has made it difficult for her and she has no reason to believe that I will return but I have. Behind Gob, appears a taller man, yet younger. I can only assume it to be Zack. He stares at me, and gives me a smile.

"She was right! Oh man! I can't be_lieve_ this one!"

Right? What was she right about? I glance back at Gob, guilty that right now I cannot rejoice in seeing Zack. He has grown well, and looks like his father since his mother's attributes are rare. Gob, surprisingly, has done well as a parent, as far as I can see.

"…Dezbe's been runnin' around here sayin' you'll be back for her because you love her. She's been losing a lot of hope on that idea though, since you've been out of the picture for so damn long. Shit. Didn't think you'd actually come back. Never told her that, just figured it ended as some things do."

"…I returned. She had no way of knowing I would, and at the time I believed it was over. I was proven wrong by an old man and a Brahmin."

Although my statement holds little to no emotion, Gob laughs. It is good, to hear his laugh again. It is good, to be around friends once more.

"I don't even wanna know at this point. Come on, I'll walk you down there. It's cold out. Aren't you cold?"

"Yes."

I say to him, which causes him to chuckle. He and Zack leave the shop as I step aside and out of their way. Being older, and understanding the situation Gob takes the lead while Zack hangs back beside me. I cannot believe, he has grown so much in just a few short years.

"Learn anything new to teach me? Aw man, you know, I always wanted this to happen. Like, all of us to hangout again. Hey, remember when I was little? Charon, man you've missed a lot. There's so much to fill you in on."

"Zack shut up, there's time for that later. Right now it's not about you for once."  
"It is fine. I understand his situation."

They look at me as if I am not the same person. As if I am speaking with an entirely different voice. Hearing that I understand something, to them is rare. Even rarer to Dezbe. Yet I do understand Zack's predicament. He saw us all as a family. We were split up, and now there is hope of us reuniting. His joyfulness is not misplaced. Perhaps a bit unruly, but not misplaced.

As we near the old home that Dez and I once shared together, I feel something. I feel…as if the soft and warm feelings I spent so much time running from, are slowly coming back to me. The hope and promise of laying beside her on this cold night, fills me up inside. Fills me, with the same feeling as if you were to sink into a warm bath after a day in the frigid cold. There has to be some way, I can make all of this up to her. Some way, I can show her that I have fought for her, that I will continue to, and never again leave her side.

"Cassidy and Dez ain't fuckin' if that's what you're worried about. She's been too latched on to you to do that. You can just go on in. We'll meet up with you tomorrow. Good to see you again, we're all glad you're back."

Gob says as we stand in front of the door. It is a relief, to hear that she is not having any sexual relations with this man. Still, I am going to assume he knows of me. If he does, he should know better, than to play house with her. Know, that she still is someone close to me, and I am protective of things I care for. Since I care for so little, I must protect what I have.

Laying my hand upon the knob, I come to find out it is locked. Hearing the jolting of the door, Gob and Zack look over at me. I lift my head, and Gob shakes his.

"No, that door is never locked."

"Then something is wrong."

I say, and take the gun from my back. It is cold, frozen almost from the wind.

"Charon, don't jump to this. She might have just locked it because of the wind."

"If that is so, Cassidy has nothing to fear."

Gob tries the knob once more, to see if somehow I was mistaken. He calls out her name, and we fall silent. Zack shifts his feet in the frozen dirt behind me, and I hear something inside. It is soft, barely audible, but it is there. It sounds, almost, like a muffled weep, or sob. It cuts me, deep inside, and there is anger where pain should be. I know Gob did not hear it, I know his sense of hearing is not as well-trained is mine. There is no mistaking it, though. I know what it is I heard.

"There is something wrong."

I do not let Gob protest in reason, as I raise my leg. I make contact with the door, closest to the lock as I was trained to do, so many years ago. Against the force I apply, and the weakened state of the metal due to the cold, the door flies open and hits the wall.

"What the hell!"

Inside, a figure yells. Inside, the room is brightly lit. I make eye contact with a man. My gun leaves my hands, as I step inside the house. Anger, radiated from me as it never has before. Years of suppression, the memories of all Dez and I have endured, fuel this. The man stands, not breaking the eye contact, and having to look up at me. I want to know, if he can also hear the children screaming in his mind, as I can.

"Who the hell are you? Get the fuck out before I kick your ass!"

I say nothing to him, as I look down and see her. She sits on the floor, with her back against the wall, naked from the waist up. Tears seep between her fingers, as she presses her hands to her face.

"Don't take one more step!"

Cassidy, I'm assuming him to be no one else, reaches for a revolver on a small table. I grab his wrist before he reaches it, my fingers closing over his bone.

"I would not advise that."

I tell him, my tone dangerous as it has ever been.

"Charon?"

Dezbe says, from her place on the floor. Still holding Cassidy's wrist, I look down at her. It was me, who drove her to tears. Me, and my departure in Rivet City that caused her to loose her will. That caused her to let a strange man into her home. This guilt, just feeds the fire of my anger. Looking back at Cassidy, I see his face change from anger, to fear. Yes. He too, hears the children.

"Listen…listen I didn't know. I ain't one to simply assume, alright? Let me go this is all a big misunderstanding."

He pleads, and in that pleading shows weakness.

"There is no misunderstanding."

"No look, this seems bad I know."

My grip tightens, and he tugs at my hand with his other one. It does him no good. I am larger, stronger, angrier.

"You should not be here."

I tell him through clenched teeth, my fingers closing tighter and tighter. He groans in pain, and the onset of panic begins. You are never supposed to panic. It is the cause of every death. Panic. It was the first thing they taught us not to do.

"Alright, alright I'll go! Look just let go and we can talk this out. Hey I wasn't doin' anything wrong alright? She let me, okay? She's been lonely you understand, don't you?"

She would not be crying, if this was so. Perhaps she was lonely, I will not argue that. Yet if she wanted him to, let him, then the tears that stream down her face would not be there. An obvious detail, I do not fail to overlook.

"No."

I say as my grip strengthens. I can break his wrist, and he is growing apparent of that. He kicks me, but it does nothing. Using his own limb against him I bring him to his knees, and stand over him.

"I'll leave!"

It is too late for that. It is too late, to beg and to cry. The monster I had tried so hard to quiet on my way here is awake now. With my free hand, I take his fingers. There are worse things, than death.

"First, I am going to break each finger on each hand, for laying them on her. Then I am going to break your arms, and each rib. This is going to hurt. This will be the worst pain you will ever feel. You will not die quickly."

One by one, his cries echo out as I snap finger after finger. Gob and Zack, their protests go unnoticed. I do not enjoy this. I do not find pleasure, in hearing cries of pain, but it is the only thing to quiet me. The only thing I feel will silence what grows and lives inside. It is the only thing I can think of he deserves, for laying his hand upon Dezbe.

"Charon! Stop it!"

She calls me. My name, emits from her lips and I stop everything. The world is silent, Cassidy and his painful sobs fall on deaf ears. I look past him, at her. She shakes from the cold, not from fear, as she stares at me with wet eyes. Did I cause those tears, too?

"…Let him go…"

"Give me a reason. He does not deserve to live."

"…Because I asked you to."

I stare at Cassidy, as Dez's request sets in my mind. His eyes are wide with fear, and wet with pain. I let go of his wrist and fingers.

"She saved your life. Leave."

He wastes no time, in leaving. His gun is left on the table, and he pushes past me and Gob, holding his broken hand against his chest. There is no doctor this late. The pain will stay with him till morning. I do not have to look behind me, to know that Gob and Zack set the door back and left as quickly as Cassidy. Now, there is nothing standing in the way, of me speaking the words I could never say before. Just as I had told myself I would do, I fall to my knees in front of her. It all, hits me as if I have plunged into icy waters. My body shakes, as th memoires of the feelings.

"Charon…you…came back."

I lower my head, as her arms stretch out to me. Around me, I feel the warmth of her touch. The burning touch, I have missed and the fire, that kept it all in place. Her milky white skin, no longer tanned from the sun, brushes against my cold face. Her flesh is warm, her touch soft. The scars that line her body are a roadmap of memories. She kneels in front of me, embracing me, embracing the monster who left her in pain. Who did not look at her pained face with compassion. She sees the pain on mine, and comforts it. She…is more human, than I could ever wish to be.

"I…do not deserve this."

I tell her as she strokes my head as I rest it against her bare chest. My hands lift and grip her waist, crawling up her back, clinging to her as if someone will come and rip her away.

"It's okay now. It's all okay…you're here…"

"I do not deserve your kindness."

"Tell me where it hurts, and I'll make it better. Come here, it's alright."

She pulls me closer to her, as if I am a child. The warmth of her body, the softness of her touch, it overpowers me.

"You're so cold…"

Her voice whispers. I wish to stay in this warmth, in the light she brings, to the darkness I have been trapped in for so long.

"…Why do you receive me so openly? Why are you not angry?"

"…Because you came back, and I knew you would. Tell me, where does it hurt? You're so cold, Charon. Let me help you."

For years, she begged me. Begged me, to let her inside, and let her fix and repair things I believed impossible to be fixed. I fought her, for most of our time on letting her in. Right now, I am far too tired to fight anymore.

"The past. The past, and the present. Knowing, that my past is what caused me to hurt you. Knowing that I left you, when you did no wrong, when you needed me. I left you, alone, and I should not have. I should have been by your side, as you were so constantly beside mine. Yet I was not. For my own selfish reasons, for thinking I was doing it for the betterment of you, I left. It is because of me, that man came here."

Her grip around my body tightens for a moment. When it softens once again, her hand lifts my head to look at her. She smiles, and I wonder, how can she continue to smile at me?

"And still, you did it because you thought it was best for me."

"Yes."

I feel her lips against the top of my head. She embraces me, smiles at me, and kisses me. What…have I done, to deserve such kindness? I should not be forgiven so easily. I want her to yell at me. Berate me. Make me feel as if I am nothing, the way my trainers would when I failed. Yet she does not.

"…If it wasn't for your past, you wouldn't be who you are now. If you didn't leave me when you did, then I wouldn't know how much you still meant to me. It's all okay now."

"My past is what drove me to harm you."

"And it's what made you come back, isn't it? What you did in the past, made you want to come back to me."

I cannot deny her words. She is right, and it amazes me, as to how she knows so much.

"I returned, because I was foolish in leaving."

"Charon…sometimes life makes people do stupid things. Sometimes, when you're in love, those stupid things are magnified."

"I cannot see how you can forgive me so easily."

She kisses the top of my head, warming the coldest parts of my heart and soul.

"Because I love you. And I'm stupid."

A cold breeze makes her shudder. I remember, she is not covering her upper body. Pulling from her, I stand up. Looking around, I find a sweater that I know belongs to her, and hand it to her.

"It is cold outside. You need to dress."

From the ground, she smiles up at me. She takes the sweater and slides it on, before standing up.

"You're staying with me tonight, right?"

As if the answer is not already obvious. I left the last time she slept. I can understand her fear.

"Yes. I will be here when you wake. For as long as you want me to."

"…Is it true, that…you think you're dying?"

The air between us grows thick. I look away from her, and hear the familiar flick of a lighter. Did she figure this out on her own, or was there help?

"…Yes. I have felt tired. My body has not been what it once was. I fear, that it is due to the age setting in, as most ghouls do not live past this stage."

Her hand finds mine. It is better, we talk of all these things now, instead of forever ignoring them. These are things, that will determine the fate of what Dez and I are now, what we could be, and what it is we wish to be.

"If that's true, and one day you can't get out of bed, then I'll be there."

I stare at her, but she simply smiles.

"I'll never love again, Charon. No matter what, we're in this together."

"Death is not something one takes lightly."

"But I'd rather be next to you, and know you're warm and safe, than you be out there, cold and alone."

"I do not know when it will happen, I do not know if it is from paranoia. I simply know, that around you, I do not feel as tired."

"Then whatever happens, we'll make it alright, and we'll get through it."

"Why do you love me so much? I do not deserve it. I do not understand it."

Dez takes a long drag of her cigarette. She mulls over my question, before stepping into me. Like she once did in the past, she rests her head against my chest, and sighs deeply.

"Because you love me. Because you're always with me. Because…no one, has ever made me feel this way before, and I kind of like it."

It feels new, and familiar at the same time. To wrap my arms around her body. I am reminded, of how small she is compared to me. Of how fragile she is, how delicate and soft. Years ago, I would tell her and she would say, the safest place for her is in my arms. Today, those words still hold so much truth.

"I see."

I tell her, holding her close, holding her tight. I have missed this. I have, missed us being together.

"I will not leave again. I will stay, and make up for all the pain I have caused."

"It's okay. Just let me fix it, when it starts to hurt."

She is mine. She is in my arms once again, and she looks up at me.

"It's alright, Charon. You just got home late, but it's all alright."

Yes. Because when you are in love, what can go wrong?


	32. Right Here

(Dez)

Charon came home that night. He came home, and everything just fell into place. When it all set in, and the reunion between us became real, I saw how cold and tired he was. Tapping into the domestic goddess I was so many years ago, I gathered all the blankets in the house, and made the bed up in my room. Pillows, blankets, you name it. His armor was cold when I lifted it off of him, and his black shirt was even colder. For the most part, Charon said nothing. He just sat there, and watched me help him into bed, untie his boots, and take his belt off for him. When I laid down, he wrapped me in those arms of his just like he used to. It's where we are now. In my bed, our bed, warming up beneath the covers with tired heads resting on the pillows.

"You alright?"

I ask him as I sit up. Reaching over him I grab my cigarettes and a lighter. I light one for me, and one for him. He takes it, as if he doesn't know what it is anymore.

"I will be."

"You should tell me, when things get rough for you. You know, with your past and all."

"If it happens, I will keep that in mind."

"Do you want this to work?"

It's a heavy question. I blow smoke from my lips, and look out the window. I want this to work. I want us to be happy together, like we use to be. Sometimes, though, people change a bit too much. They change to the point, where you have no choice but to say goodbye. Charon has changed, and I hope it isn't too much.

"Yes. I…would not be happy, if I was anywhere else."

Looking back at him, I can't help but smile. Charon lays a hand on my back, and his fingers gently touch the fabric of my sweater.

"I can't sleep."

"Why?"

"I'm too happy to have you back. I'm scared if I go to sleep, that it won't be real in the morning. Like I dreamed all of it."

When I'm away from Charon, I fall apart. In the dim light of my room, with no moon to shine in, Charon's eyes are still the blue I always remembered them to be.

"It is no dream. I am here. I will not leave."

I put my cigarette out on the steel wall, and press myself into him. I bury my face in his shirt, and let tears of happiness leak out. He's my night sky, you know. He's always been right behind me, and now…now I'll always be right beside him. Putting his own cigarette out, Charon pats the hair on my head, and holds me tight. If perfect could be anything, I think it would be this. It sounds stupid, and so co-dependant, but, I don't care. So many nights I cried myself to sleep. I would lie there, sobbing into a pillow, begging and wishing to either die or have him come back to me. Now…now that he's back, I don't have to cry anymore. I don't have to hurt, and I can finally love myself. I never thought I would ever do that. Then again, I never thought there'd be Charon, either.

"Why are you crying?"

He asks me, as my hands grip his black shirt and pull him closer. There's no room to move between us.

"Because I'm happy."

"Why did you stay alone for so long? I had hoped, you would find someone else."

"I gave up finding someone else when I met you. Even if I did, they wouldn't be as good as you, and I'd probably just leave them once I found you anyways."

He kisses my forehead. Opening my eyes, I look up at him.

"I want…to celebrate this."

He lifts an eyebrow as I pull away from him. Wiping my face clean, I smile, wider than I've ever smiled in five years.

"Celebrate?"

"You're home, Charon. You were the missing piece to everyone's lives. Gob and Zack, they've missed you so much. I've missed you. But, you're here now, and we can all be happy. There's nothing to cry about anymore."

"I am tired. Tomorrow is another day."

"I've waited for tomorrow long enough. Give me this at least."

Charon sighs, and sits up. He pats my head like I'm an annoying child, and nods his head.

"Alright."

Victory! I leap out of bed, and grab my warm wanderer outfit. Charon sits up and grabs the top half of his armor, but I knock it out of his hands.

"No. Tonight, you go casual. You're not a mercenary anymore."

"I have always worn my armor."

"Who do you intend to fight tonight?"

"No one."

"Exactly."

"But if something happens I would like to be prepared."

"For tonight, everything is well. There's no one who will start trouble. After all we're just going to Gob's."

I can tell Charon's feeling uncomfortable with this. He's always worn his armor. When we lived together, he wouldn't step outside without wearing it. I guess now is one of those moments, to ask why that is.

"Hey? Why do you always wear your armor, anyways?"

Charon sighs as he sets his top back on the floor.

"Even though, this pair is different, it was still the first possession I was given upon my release. That, and my gun, were the only two things I ever had. I never leave either one behind."

I guess if I spent the first two-hundred years of my life with only two things, I'd take care of them, too. And I wouldn't leave them around, either. Charon's still attached to his past, and old habits die hard. But he wants this to work, and I want this to work, too. We're going to have to take baby steps, and it won't be easy but, after all the things he's been through with me, it's the least I can do for him.

Getting up I take his armor off of the floor and hold it in front of me. Gently, I fold it and set it inside a drawer of a makeshift dresser.

"It'll be safe in here, when you need it. Don't you think, it can last longer if you don't wear it constantly?"

"Perhaps."

I take his gun and set it under the bed.

"Gob has all you need for repairing anything. For now they'll be safe in the house, and you won't have to worry."

"It is still difficult to leave a place without any form of protection."

"Charon, you don't need a weapon to be dangerous."

He looks away from me, and sighs.

"I know that."

Probably shouldn't have said that one. Charon was made to be dangerous, and it always bothered him. In the past he'd ask me what he was good at besides killing, and what could he do with his hands that didn't involve harming someone. I told him I didn't know, but out here that wasn't something to be worried about. Charon thought differently, though. He's always…thought he was someone bad. Like how he was raised somehow made him a bad person. The only time I think someone is bad, is when they get pleasure from doing those bad things. He never said he didn't, but I don't think he does. After all, a bad person, couldn't treat me so kindly.

"It's alright, though. Girls like me have a soft spot for dangerous guys. You know, the whole safety and protection thing. Plus, who better than to defend Megaton than you?"

"What?"

"Simms kicks the bucket soon, he's way too old. People don't like how Harden is turning out, according to Gob anyways. We have a lot of memories here, you know? Maybe…it wouldn't be so bad to…stay. There's food available and we can come and go as we please. And no one would mess with a town run by two vigilantes now would they?"

Charon continues to lace his boots in silence. I stare at him, wondering if I said something wrong.

"Maybe this time, a plan of yours will work. At least, it would not end with mass destruction and chaos. Making an honest living, doing something for others."

"See? I told you."

"But it is a long-term commitment, and my time is unknown."

"Well, for now, let's live in the moment. After all, Charon, stranger things have happened."

"Like?"

"Our entire lives together is a prime example."

Charon looks at me, it's an agreeing look, though. I know, this will take time. It's going to be hard to get to where we once were together, and truthfully it's going to be a strain on both of us. But, against all the odds, I think we can do it. Charon's left me because of his past, and I've done equally if not worse, things to him. Yet we can still forgive one another. If we can keep that, then…I think when all is said and done in our lives, we'll all be okay.


	33. If You Could Learn to Forgive Me

(Charon)

It is strange, to be without my armor. I have slept without it, but never ventured too far from it. Never, did I think of leaving a safe place, without both armor and gun in my hand and on my body. It is new, and uncomfortable, and I hide this from Dez. She is happy right now. She has the youthful glow about her, one that all those around her envy. That light and energy, that draws people in. I know, it has been a long time, since that glow and light have filled her. Ruining it for her now, to speak of my own discomfort, is selfish. After all, in reality, it is nothing more than a piece of clothing and a weapon. Yet, when all you have had your entire life, are those two things, they soon become everything to you. They become a part of you, and without it, you feel incomplete, even just slightly.

Dez laughs at things unsaid, and smiles at nothing in the air, as she and I venture down the steps. I am sure in her mind, memories of the past play for only her to see and hear. Hopes of the future create the smile, while those flickers of incidents before sound the laughter. I smile behind her, as I wait in the living room. When I hear her laugh, I wish to laugh, too. This will be a long journey for me, finally burying what it is that created this cold person. Accepting help, advice, love from another, is not something I am easily capable of doing. I have to take my time, and learn it as if I am a child. It was simple enough to do so before, because I was thrown into it. With our lives taking the turns they had, Dezbe and myself did not have time to reflect, to think much of things. With the three years we spent together, it hit us both. The death of her father, leaving the vault, her loneliness in the Wasteland, the bullet that caused her to lose herself, and the violence and rape against her…it all struck Dezbe, as it struck me. Yet, she never complained, as I did.

When things would come up, similar to my blackouts, she would walk to the edge of the small cliff our shack resided on and stare out. There would be no tears of sorrow, no cry for attention. Monotone and expressionless, Dezbe would sit and reflect on the things of the past. She never asked for my advice, and often rejected my comfort. I understood. She had to face it all alone. At night, when she would cry in her sleep, my comfort did not go wasted. She would wake, and quietly cry. I said nothing, because I knew nothing I could say would soften this journey for her. At the time, I was going through the same thing, almost. I feel guilty, for not trying harder back then. I should have taken initiative, rather than assuming she simply understood why I said nothing.

Dezbe returns from the kitchen, holding two bottles of liquor in her hands. Wine, and vodka. She greets me with a smile, and inside a spark ignites. It is warm, and I have missed that feeling.

"Ready to celebrate Sir Casual?"

I have missed her humor, and childish ways. She is far more mature than most people I have encountered, which is why she is able to act so foolish. People, who go through what she has, and endure tragic things, know what she knows. That innocence is taken, and being a child in certain aspects, are the only way to enjoy life. Sometimes, one cannot be a constant serious being. I wish one day, I can learn to be like she is.

"I have no other choice."

"That's right you don't. Because I am Queen Dezbe, ruler of all things worth ruling, and tonight…I rule you."

She winks at me, and presses her forehead against my arm. I stare at her, with slight emotion.

"Telepathically sending you fun signals so you can enjoy tonight."

"I see."

"Onward!"

Taking a deep gulp of wine, Dezbe leads me from the house. I find it slightly ironic, that we began in this home, and plan to end here. It is how life works, though. Everyone returns home at some point, and if not, their home is a complete replica of the one they left behind. Life has cycles, and there is nothing you can do to stop it.

"It's really cold out…"

She says one we step outside. Wrapping her arms around herself, she shivers a bit and looks back at me. I receive a smile, and I know she simply wants to be sure I am following. It is a trait I hope stays with time, because it makes me feel better about returning. As if, I truly am wanted. I have not felt this feeling, in five years.

"Perhaps you should have wrapped yourself in a blanket."

Thinking this thought over, Dez shoves a bottle of liquor beneath her arm. She outstretches her free hand to me.

"It's windy. You should hold my hand, so we don't get separated."

I take her hand in mine.

"Sometimes, I say sorry to you in my head, because I feel bad for falling so deeply in love with you. But, then again, I thank you for that, because it makes me not want to give up. I only wanted to die, when you weren't with me. So…you being back, gives me a whole new lease on life. I want…I want us to finally be happy, Charon. I don't ever want us to be apart again, even for a day or two. I'm stupid, aren't I?"

Looking down at her as we walk, I see the sadness that hides in her eyes. Only, it is not a sadness that makes one cry of sorrow. Rather, it is one that arises from happiness, one that creates tears of joy.

"I feel the same way."

Dez looks at me, and I look ahead of us. From my peripheral vision, I can see the smile of content that crosses her face. The corners of my mouth twitch, and I find that happiness and the release of my past, may not be too far behind.

"No matter what happens, we're never going to separate. Right?"

She squeezes my hand, and I squeeze hers.

"Yes. If that is what you want."

"It is. We're doing it different now. If you need to leave Megaton, I'm going with you. This relationship runs two ways. Even if you think you need to be alone, I'm going to be right beside you. Partly because I've missed you and feel clingy, but mostly…because it was a mistake we often made in the past."

I agree with her outlook. When we were separated, it was usually due to our stubborn ways. Both new in the emotions we were feeling, neither one of us completely understood how to act and what was needed and wanted from the other. Now, we have learned from those mistakes. My silence in the past, both with her issues and my own, drove us apart. It will take time, but I will be more vocal with her. She, I am sure, has learned by now that perhaps when I tell her one of her ideas is bad, it usually is. Looking back down at her as she sucks the wine bottle like a pacifier, I highly doubt my last thought. Yet, her words and hand in mine, tell me something completely different. She is as confusing to me, as I am to her.

"Gob! Gob! G-o-ob!"

She pounds on the door loud enough to wake the town. Although I hardly think anyone will come out and investigate. It is far too cold. When Gob opens the door, Dez pushes past him in all of her impulsive ways, waving the half-empty wine bottle and full vodka bottle in her hand.

"Tonight, we celebrate!"

Gob and I stare at her as I walk inside. She goes to the left, into his work room. Closing the door he looks up at me.

"I take it this was her idea?"

"Have you ever seen me in such a celebratory mood?"

"Least your award-winning personality and wit hasn't changed."

I sigh and follow him inside. Dez has found a seat on the floor, and is busy indulging herself in wine. For tonight, I do not feel the need to caution her. I assume it has been a long time, since she has been this happy.

"We reunite as the Wasteland's strangest…what's after trio?"

"Quartet."

I tell her without missing a beat. She smiles at me, and tosses the vodka to Gob. He sighs and shakes his head while opening it.

"You look rather casual."

He says to me, and I glare at him. Although I have returned, it does not mean I am use to this environment. Once again, I am being thrown into something uncomfortable. Yet I know, the best thing for me to do, is simply allow it all to take place. When Dez is in such high spirits, I do not wish to bring her down. Tomorrow, I will speak with her on all these subjects.

"It was not my choice."

"Drink?"

Gob acts as foolishly as Dez when he offers me vodka. Even now, a warm glass of whiskey would do me no good. I simply have no desire.

"No. Someone needs to be rational."

"Hey…what's going on?"

Zack enters the room. He runs his hand through his hair, while his gaze shifts from me to his father uneasily. I move to the side a bit so between us, he can see a happily drinking Dezbe and know the matters at hand are not serious.

"Dezbe wanted to party."

Gob tells him, and Zack smiles.

"So they came here?"

"He said 'Dezbe'. Not 'Dezbe and Charon'. Take note of that."

I tell him as I lean on the edge of his desk and light a cigarette. In the background of our small conversation, Dez laughs loudly and talks even louder. Simply because I have been apart, does not mean I have forgotten how to ignore her drunken eccentricities. I see by looking at Gob and Zack, they are in the same boat as I.

"Why come then?"

Zack has defiance and slight anger in his question. I can understand if he is angry at me for leaving. It was not something I ignored in my time away. Thinking of him, I mean. As a young boy and only knowing us as family, I can assume he felt betrayed and left behind. I received a warm welcome from Gob and Dezbe, yet I did not expect one from Zack. If he stands defiant on allowing me in his life, I will know how well he has grown. I will respect him more, as he ages. Gob seemingly has kept him sheltered, and there are things you should not shelter from children. They must hurt and learn, as much as we do not wish them to, it is the only way there is room to grow. Look at a man who has hurt and suffered, and a man who has not. You will understand what it is I mean.

"Because it makes her happy."

I say motioning to Dez. Gob takes another sip of his drink, forgetting for a night his duties as a parent. Also, I think he wishes that Zack and I would talk. He must know, something of the pain Dez and I caused him by leaving. Dez is simply easier forgiven, because for a while she was like a mother to him. Her femininity gives her an advantage. Being held to the standard of a man as Zack held me to, it is only natural I must battle somewhat, for his acceptance once again.

"Didn't stop you from leaving and lying."

"Zack!"

Gob yells, intervening. I look at him.

"It is alright. His anger is understandable."

"He shouldn't be rude."

"Don't talk to me like I'm not here! If anyone wants to do that, I'll go to my room!"

Like a teenager would, Zack storms away. Gob sighs in defeat and takes yet another long gulp of liquor. Dezbe appears in front of us, on her way to a drunken stupor, and smiling.

"Let's _dance_!"

She twirls round a bit before falling. I look at her, although emotionless, inside I did miss nights like this.

"What music are you dancing to? Or, were?"

"The songs in my heaaad!"

Gob laughs at her statement, and goes to help her up. She pulls him down and they drink together, and their laughter soon fills the room. I take this distraction as my escape. If I do not speak to Zack now, although many more things burden my mind, I feel I will have missed the chance. Tonight, I put aside my own problems and concerns, and deal with those around me. Those of others. It is part of this journey I have to do head-on. Some things, cannot be planned or carefully calculated, and you often cannot feel comfortable with those things. Yet still, they must be done. If I want to be truly happy, with friends and with Dezbe, I must put effort in showing I want them to be happy with me. There will be time later, for me to deal with my own issues.

Knocking softly on the only bedroom with a closed door, I wait to hear a response from the other side.

"…Go away!"

Ignoring his warning, I open his door. His room, I would assume, looks like most rooms a teenager would have. Messy, with ripped pictures from pre-war books stuck to the wall, and a small bed nearest the window. I have never been around young adults. This is new to me. Then again, I met Dezbe when she was nineteen. Young, but an adult. Zack is lucky, to have the home he does in this world. Most…are not given such lives.

"I understand your anger towards me."

I say as I close the door. Zack sits on the bed, glaring up at me. I treated Dezbe when we met, as an adult. I gave no mercy outwardly, and did not know how to talk to her. I still do not know, how to speak to people of ages like Zack is, but I can learn from what I experienced when Dezbe was young like he.

"Oh, really? Because from what I've seen you've gone from cool to cold and heartless. All blunt and straightforward."

"Would you rather me lie by denying that and falsify what it is I am not feeling at this moment?"

He raises an eyebrow. Zack does not know much of me. I have forgotten that he was not around when most things were taking place.

"You talk funny."

"Perhaps you would better understand things if I explained them? If you are still angry after, maybe then you would be willing to tell me what it is I could do to show you that I, nor Dez, am leaving your side anymore."

"I don't care. I'm mad that…you hurt Dez. I'm mad because…you came back and she's insta-happy, and…someone…shouldn't have so much control over someone like that."

"No. They should not."

"Dad said…you were brainwashed. That you were the best mercenaries around, only, you had a contract. He didn't tell me much else."

Good. It was not Gob's place, to inform Zack of my past. I am grateful he did not divulge any further, because perhaps then it would have been distorted. Not in a malicious sense, but these things must be carefully worded.

"It is far more complicated than that, but he was not wrong."

"Is that why…you seem so different now?"

"Yes. I am still not use, or rather I have not fully adapted, to life as everyone knows it."

"But dad said Dez made it better, I guess. I don't remember, really."

"She has. Did. When you do something, anything impulsive as Dezbe and I did with changing one another and the relationship that came from it, you often have no time to think of anything else. Only when things calm down, does reflection set in and things begin to haunt you."

Zack looks up at me, thinking over what I have said. I do not know how to vocalize what I am wanting to say, but I am trying. Perhaps, it is because of his youth.

"Is that why…you and Dez went away? Because things came back?"

"For the most part. My past is littered with things I do not wish to tell you. You are far too young, but understand due to those things, I put Dez in harm's way. When I left, I did so in hopes for the betterment of her. I still have yet to understand, human nature."

"So…so it's kind of like if I get a really good idea. Let's say…I don't know I take out into the Wasteland. For a while, it's good because I haven't thought anything through. But when something happens or I have to think, I realize I did something stupid and regret it?"

"In a sense, yet neither one of us regretted our decisions. We simply had time to reflect on it all. Time we did not have before, and that is what shook us."

Mulling it over, Zack plays with his nails. An abstract behavior that would tell anyone else he does not care. Yet I see through that. He is thinking this out, through, and disguises it in stupidity. If I felt I was being mocked by him, I would have left. I can tell, Zack is taking this very seriously, although handling it lightly. Simply, he does not want to misunderstand or be hurt.

"I get it, I think. But…I don't know. You guys always, still do, seemed like superheroes to me. Thinking like an adult, is really hard. I just thought everything was good and fine and happy. That life was like that."

"You were lucky, to be raised with such naïve ways. Dez was once the same way."

He perks up, looking at me. I decide to sit on the floor, as there are no chairs and my feet tire quickly from the long distance I have walked. Putting out my cigarette on the floor, I decide to tell Zack whatever it is he may be curious about. Within certain reason and understanding. Just speaking to him, and listening, may cause him to warm up to me. If Dez and I have to leave Megaton for whatever reason, I do not want there to be hostility on his part towards me.

"She was? I mean, she's immature sometimes but she's smart."

"She was raised in a vault. Underground homes built to survive the Great War, more or less. Dezbe did not know much of the outside world, or if there was any. I know the story she portrays is something she likes to call 'badass' but, she was a scared and naive child as you are. There is nothing wrong with that."

"I can't picture her being scared."

"She is. Even now, she is scared."

"Of what?"

I sigh, and make sure Zack can understand the severity of this conversation, without myself showing emotions I do not have.

"Losing you, Gob, myself. Being alone. Dezbe is fragile, as most people are. Everyone is scared at some point, she is no exception."

"What about you? Are you ever scared?"

Images of my past flash. The first time I felt fear in the facility, I was a child. I stopped being frightened of things, when I was able to understand how to manipulate the system I was raised in. Younger than Zack, yet not a child by their standards. Since then, there has been very little I have been fearful of. Until, meeting Dezbe.

"Yes. I am fearful, when I feel Dez is in danger. When the thought of losing her, is prominent in my mind. Losing her by means of death, I mean. I am fearful of things such as that."

"But you're not scared of like, your own safety?"

"No. I know myself. I know I am perfectly capable of surviving with or without someone. Yet I do not wish to be alone. There is a difference."

"Yeah I know. Just, it's cool. I mean, you're this big, bad mercenary and…you still get scared of losing things. Like Dez, I mean. I think it's kinda really manly."

"You will understand more in time. Right now, enjoy the sheltered life you have. There is time, for you to see things as your father, myself, and Dezbe sees them."

"I know. I know there is but…I just want everyone to stop treating me like I'm six. I'm sixteen, you know?"

"Your father does so, because he has suffered. He does not want you to suffer. Also, he must learn suffering is inevitable, but I can understand wanting to keep you from it. In time you will learn."

"Yeah, I guess. Hey, I know you and Dez are just renewing things but…when the dust clears and it's all alright for both of you…you'll teach me how to fight, right?"

"I will teach you what is necessary to know for surviving in this world."

"So…fighting?"

His one-track mind softens my hardened shell. Youth, innocence, seeing the world through rose-colored glasses. Although I am glad I do not have that close-mindedness, I am also a bit saddened that I was never able to feel it. He is young. He will learn in time, there is no rush.  
"Yes."

"Dad says you're really good. That you were the best of the best."

I nod in agreement, unsure of how to react to a compliment, yet a truthful compliment.

"Learning from someone…who is the best, is so cool."

Pain is in there. Pain, is in me becoming the best. Haunting of my past are present now, as they have been for years. To Zack's mind, my existence is nothing more than the fictional Superman, and he cannot see what it took for me to become the best. He does not understand, it was against my will from the beginning. At the same time, I do not want him to see just yet, what it was that caused my supposed 'success' in all fields. A part of me, that is learned from the past I spent with Dez, wishes for him to be as naïve as he can, and safe for as long as he can. When he is an adult, he can learn all he wants then. But, as a child, I wish for him to see me as nothing more than a strong being. Never, has Zack discriminated against humans and ghouls. I have never seen him be angry, even towards attacking Raiders. He has temperamental outbursts as we all do, but this child as he still is, is a good person. I do not want him to know, that not all people, are as good as he is.

"_Charon_!"

Dez's cry echoes from downstairs and into Zack's room. It breaks the silence, and he laughs wholeheartedly.

"She summons you."

I nod, smirking enough so that he cannot see, but that I know it is there.

"She has always summoned me that way. She is safe, for now it can go ignored if you wish to speak to me more."

"Kinda but, you should spend time with Dez. Wait, what do you mean she's always summoned you like that?"

Before I share it with him, I make sure there is nothing inside the tale that will destroy his vision of me, or of Dez, or hurt his blinded views on the world.

"It began when our lives together had just recently started. Dez had wandered off, and gotten into some trouble with Talon mercenaries. She was unable to defend herself, unarmed and outmatched. Knowing I, at the time, was loyal to her and had to do whatever it was she needed, she called my name loud enough for everyone in a ten-mile radius to hear. Since then, be it in anger, sadness, danger, she has always called my name like that."

"And you've always gone to her, haven't you?"

"Yes. Even when I no longer had the contract that bounded me to her, I still arrived."

Zack smiles at me, and stands up.

"Since you've been gone so long, don't you think you should go to her? Show her that when she screams like that, you'll still be there?"

It may have been intentional, or it might not have been. Either way, Zack is wise in what he says. I was always at Dez's side, when my name was called like that. Always, arriving to save her from either others or herself. He is right. We are starting over, and it is a small thing for me to do, but something that will reinforce her belief that we will not be separated again. Something, to remind her that I have always been there. Even in my five-year absence, I hope that in memory, I was able to comfort her when she called my name. Tomorrow, perhaps I will ask her this.

"You are right. Are you coming down as well?"

Zack is tall. As tall as his father, perhaps maybe a bit more. He has Nova's delicate features, but resembles Gob the most. Those looking at him, would not deny him to be Gob's son. Even with Gob being a ghoul, some traits run far deeper than skin.

"Yeah I'll go and laugh at the traveling circus for a bit."

Although I do not ask how it is Zack knows what a traveling circus is, his analogy is on target. When Gob and Dezbe drink together, the laughs were not spared. At least, it was that way in the past. Walking down the steps, I can hear Gob and Dezbe attempting to sing a duet. In her drunken state, she must have forgotten she called my name. Zack and I watch them, as they use the bottles as makeshift microphones, and sing songs they do not know the lyrics of. The sight brings a smile to my face. It is nothing to get worked up about, nothing special. There are still hard roads ahead, but for the night, for the moment, the laughter Dez emits…overshadows the sounds of weeping and screaming children in my mind.

"Sing with us, Charon!"

Dez says, laughing, as she stumbles to me. I catch her, before she trips and falls to the ground. I wish, she would never stop laughing. I wish, she could always be this happy.

"I do not sing."

I say to her, as I bring her to her feet. Zack smiles, at his father, and at Dezbe and I reunited after so long. In the past, I had not realized, how much it meant to people, that we were together. That they too, felt pain when word of our parting reached them. In the silence of my mind, in the steadfast ways of solving the mysteries of my past, I did not hear their silent prayers. Now, I know, they were always with me.

"I sing!"

She yells as I sit her in a chair, so that if she falls, it will not hurt too much.

"You sing well."

"I sing!"

"Yes."

"I sing!"

"…Yes, you do."

Dez laughs, throwing the empty wine bottle across the room. It hits the carpet Gob placed down some time ago, and does not shatter. I run my hand over the top of her head, while she gives me a childish grin.

"I'm so trashed."

"Perhaps you are done celebrating?"

"I don't want to leave! I'm not sleepy!"

Bending down, I place my arms beneath her and scoop her up. She is lighter than I remember, and I realize I thought the same thing when I carried her to Rivet City. Drunk, and tired, Dez presses her head into my chest.

"I love you."

She says to me, belching in the process. I look at Zack as I hold her in the air, against me, with ease.

"Do you need help with your father?"

"Nah. He'll sleep here and wake up tomorrow cold and stiff from the floor."

I glance over at Gob, and back to Zack.

"You are right. It is his own fault."

"Hey, you guys will be back tomorrow, right?"

"Perhaps. We may take a day to ourselves. I do not yet know."

"I think you should do that. It's been…too long."

"It has. Sleep well. Sorry to have disturbed you."

"It was a sight worth seeing."

"I can sing!"

Zack and I look at Dez. Yes, we have realized she can sing. With nothing more to say, I leave Gob's home. I must admit, he has done well. On his own, wish a child to raise and no skills of survival, Gob somehow made a good life for himself. Although, a woman in his life, would do him good. Someone to watch over him, care for him, worry about him. I never realized, small things like that are what truly make us a person. I did not realize, how lucky I was to have Dez in my life. Perhaps, you have to lose things, before you can fully understand their meaning and importance.

Arriving back at the Megaton home Dez and I will share, I carry her to the top of the steps. She stayed warm in my arms, protected from the wind. Even though it is not a threat, I felt the need to shield her from it. I have much to make up for these days, and I want to make sure I am able to do it. Laying her down on the bed, she sighs heavily.

"The room is all…spinny."

I sit beside her as I begin to unlace my boots.

"Perhaps now you will not drink as much."

"Nah…"

I shake my head at her, and allow her to see the room as a spinning feature.

"Hey, Charon?"

"Hm?"

"You…you _sure_ you're gonna be here tomorrow? Because I don't think so. I think, you're a big, fat liar. Fat. Liar. Fat."

Pulling a boot off, I drop it to the ground and sigh. She has every right, to be scared and wry.

"I will be here, until you wish for me to leave. I am not going to leave you."

"I want to dance!"

Before I can stop her, she leaps from the bed. I do not give much attention to what she is doing, as I pull my other boot off. When I glance up, I see that she is not drunkenly dancing. I see something, entirely different. To the music in her mind, Dez contorts her body in a way I can only describe as a Wasteland dancer. As if somewhere far off, a man plays guitar by a fire, and only Dez can hear the chords. She keeps perfect timing, and perfect rhythm. Her hands clap above her head, her hips move with her thighs as her eyes keep tightly closed. Music, that only she can hear, makes her move so fluidly. I am scared to move. I do not want to destroy, the fire that has been ignited in her soul on this night. I keep time, by the beating of her hands, and by the movements of her body.

Suddenly, as if the music in her mind was interrupted, Dez stops and stares at me. Her eyes are sharper, deeper, than they were in the past. I stare at her, wondering what stopped this beautiful creature from her movements. She breathes out, a cloud of breath apparent in the air.

"Charon?"

Her arms fall to her sides, and she looks down. As if she is a puppy I have just kicked into a corner.

"Yes?"

Lifting her head at my word, Dezbe brushes hair from her face.

"I'm so cold…"

Raising my arms to her, I take her fragile body and pull her into me. Even through the warmth of her sweater, I feel the coldness of her flesh. Laying down on the bed, I use my own body heat, and the protection of blankets, to keep her from the cold.

"You will be warm soon."

I say to her, as I cover her head with my arms. She presses her face into my chest, her hot breath seeping through the fabric of my shirt.

"Don't leave me anymore…"

"I will not."

"No matter what?"

"No matter what."

"I thought you were really dead."

I kiss the top of her head, feeling her hair between my fingers.

"I am sorry, that I caused you to believe that."

"…It's okay."

I will never understand, the depth of a woman's heart. No matter how hard I try, or how human I become…some things, a man is not meant to know. We will never understand, how deeply a woman loves us. Or, how easy they are, in accepting our mistakes and faults. They speak a language, that we will never understand. They show us, the most beautiful things of life, in simple actions and motions. I do not think, there is anything more moving, than a woman loving a man, as Dezbe loves me.


	34. I Still Call You Superman

(Dez)

When I wake up the next morning, I'm burning up. Hot, I mean. The air is really stiff, and surprisingly I have no hangover. Maybe the cosmos decided to cut me a break, since I drank in celebration rather than nothing. Sun pokes through the window and the cracks in the room, as sweat covers my entire body. Without thinking, I kick the blankets off. Then, I remember everything of the night before, and turn around to look.

It's really real. It really did happen, and it wasn't this beautiful dream. Next to me, laying on his side with his arms curled under his head, Charon sleeps. He's a quiet sleeper, and it makes me smile. He's still here, just like he promised he would be. After all that's happened, I was scared he'd leave me again. Scared, that some reason would come up, and he'd take off the second I fell asleep. Last night, I fought sleep for as long as I could. But, exhaustion coupled with wine, made me fall asleep faster than I thought. Pulling off my hot and heavy sweater, I lie back down next to Charon. Topless, comfortable. The only man, I could ever show this scarred body to, and not feel ashamed or embarrassed.

I stare at him while he sleeps. His eyes are closed, and he stays still as ever. Under his black shirt, his chest moves up and down slowly. I wonder how tired he is? Last night, when he first came back, his skin and armor were so cold. It was like he was outside for a really long time. Like he had walked so far in such a short amount of time. I don't know really, how far away from Megaton he was when he decided to come back. But, it just seems, like he's really exhausted. Like…he hasn't slept so well, in such a long time.

Pressing my head against his chest, Charon doesn't move. Usually, he'd wake and shoot straight up at any slight sound or movement. The fact that this time, he just sleeps, makes me think he's worn out. I'm excited to have him back, and there's lots of things I want to ask him, but…I have the rest of my life to ask questions. Even though…Charon's old and thinks he's nearing the end of his life, I don't think that. Because, when I was away from him, apart from one another, I felt the same way. Tired, with aching bones and feeling as if I couldn't go on another day. I think, that we're just so dependant on one another, that we can't go on in absence. Maybe, that's it, you know? By us being back together, maybe he'll feel better. Maybe, those old bones of his, will find that youthful spark again and we can have small adventures before settling back down. In the pocket of my vault suit, I still have the pill Barrows gave me. The pill, that will make Charon able to have children with me. Just one child will be enough. If Charon still wants a family, I won't hesitate now, to give him one. Because, I think now in my life, that's what will make me happy. A family, with Charon, after everything calms down. After we're done catching up and walking this path of life together, I can't think of anything more exciting and adventurous, than starting a small family of three. Yes. Three, is a perfect number.

Sighing deeply, I try to think of what life would be like, will be like, once everything is the way it should be. Once, we're finally able to be who we are, without the horrors of the past coming in and messing with our minds. We'll be happy. We'll be in Megaton, and there'll be a new addition to this unholy union.

"Charon?"

I whisper, and in response he takes in a deep breath. Yawning, he stays still, but I know me calling his name woke him a bit.

"Hey, are you hungry?"

His arm moves a bit, and his eyes flutter beneath his eyelids.

"Alright. Sleep as long as you want."

Kissing the top of his head, I gently climb over him. Setting my feet on the ground, I take in the hot and stuffy air. I guess, the cold front is over. You know what I've never seen, though? But I've always wanted to see? A meteor shower. In all the time I've spent outside, I never got to see one. Sure I've seen shooting stars, but…never a complete meteor shower. Maybe with this newfound lease on life, and a second chance at being happy, it'll happen. Looking behind me as I stand at the bottom of the stairs, still topless, I smile a bit. There's a lot of light poking through this darkness. Even though there's going to be some trouble, I can tell, there's going to be just as many laughs, too.

Charon must have felt so alone. He must have…been so scared. I know he'll never admit it, but I think that as time slips by, and the bad things start to mount up, and you're all alone…you get scared. I know, being optimistic right now probably isn't a good idea, because things are still so fragile, but I can't help it. I can't help, but smile as I'm reminded how magical life can be. How for so long, all hope can be lost but then, suddenly something turns it all around. Once you hit rock bottom, all you have to do is wait for something to turn it all around. Since the worst has already happened, what else is there?

Still smiling, I walk into my kitchen and grab myself some iguana sticks. It's not much, but it's something. Upstairs, Charon still sleeps. He deserves it, though. When he got back, he was really worn out. Which reminds me, I should probably toss a shirt on. Figuring the cold front won't be back for a time, I venture into the living room and grab my vault suit. Munching with my mouth full, I take off my pants and slip on my vault suit like it's a piece of cake. Which, really, it is. I've worn these things my entire adolescent life, wearing it now…it just brings me back. Good thing I never got any taller, or this wouldn't fit me.

After getting dressed and swallowing my food, I take the pill out of my pocket. I stare at it in my hand, the oblong-shaped blue thing. I can't believe this pill, holds the solution to all the ghouls problems. That this little, insignificant thing, can fix an entire generation. Wanting to keep it safe, I put it in the lockers next to my small, cramped kitchen. That way if we wander outside this house, I won't risk losing it. Lighting up a cigarette, I stare at the lockers like they're hiding the answers to all my problems, issues, and sadness. If they were, I don't think I'd waste time in opening them. Before I can take a second drag off of my cigarette, though, a loud banging comes from the opposite side of my front door. Cocking an eyebrow, I figure it's probably Zack. Kids are up early these days, and I wouldn't doubt his eagerness to see Charon and me together. He always liked it when Charon told him stories.

"Didn't think you'd be up before noon."

I say as I open the door. But it isn't Zack who stands on the other side of it. Instead, it's a pretty pissed off Cassidy. There's a cast around his right hand, a pretty shitty one at that, too. I could have done a better job with a tin can and some Brahmin leather but, we won't go there.

"He broke my _fucking_ hand!"

Cassidy tells me the obvious through clenched teeth. He raises his hand to show me, as if I had somehow been missing the night before. Really, Cassidy, I didn't realize that. Seems he got all the fingers, too.

"That's obvious. Wait, why are you here?"

I'm calm because I have Charon. Because I know that if he tries anything, even the deep-sleep Charon will wake and come to the rescue. Maybe I shouldn't get so cocky, though. My cockiness has gotten me into trouble before.

"Because he broke my hand!"

"Right, again, I can see that. But what the hell are you doing here?"

"Dez, that man is _insane_!"

"Some would say that, yeah."

"_That_ is the man you've been hung up on? Waiting for?"

"I told you not to touch me."

"You didn't mind it the other night!"

"I had nothing to say about that. I was sad and lonely, but thank god he came when he did. I can't deal with anymore regrets."

That last word makes him mad, but he doesn't react to it. I think instead, he's listening to see if Charon is still here.

"Where is he now?"

I ash my cigarette and stare at it for a bit before blinking and looking at Cassidy.

"Sleeping upstairs. He's tired. Don't wake him up."

"The goddamned animal broke my hand, and you're roaming around freely while he _sleeps_?"

"Charon would never hurt me. I trust him. Plus, he's not an animal. He has complete control over everything he does."

Cassidy looks at me like I've just lost my head. Maybe I have, though. I mean if someone came in and broke all the fingers on my right hand, I'd think they were crazy, too. But I warned Cassidy. I told him right to his face how possessive and deadly Charon was. It's not my fault he didn't want to hear my warning. Then again maybe he did hear it and just didn't want to listen to him. I don't know.

"Dez, all your issues stem from him. You're so attached to him, you can't even see that."

"Okay?"

Cassidy. He once reminded me of a debonair western-style drifter with no purpose or place, who went where his feet took him and saved damsels in distress. You know, those nice guys who do the right things the wrong way. Now, with his broken hand and missing gun, he just looks like a raving loon. I wonder if he's drunk? No, he seems coherent enough. Maybe when Charon broke his hand, it also snapped some of his mind. Doesn't seem to me like Cassidy has been in dire situations like that very often. I have to stop assuming people have gone through similar things as I have. Nine times out of nine, they haven't.

"Will you just _listen_?"

He grabs my wrist with his good hand and I stare at him. His eyes narrow, and I drop my cigarette to the ground.

"I wouldn't do that. And keep your voice down. Charon sleeps pretty lightly."

"Is he keeping you here against your will?"

"What? No. Stop it, you're being stupid."

He really is, too. I get him to let my wrist go, but it's too late. The sound of my bedroom door opening gives me a hint that lets me guess the answer. Charon's awake, and he's probably not going to be too happy with seeing the man who was fondling his woman the night before at the doorstep. I told Cassidy to not be loud, though. Even if it was a little late, it was a warning. I am guilt-free in this.

"He's awake. Happy now?"

Cassidy masks fear behind bravery. A stupid move on his part, if you ask me.

"Dezbe?"

Charon calls from the top of the steps. He doesn't wait for my response to start making his way down them.

"Yeah?"

By the time I answer, Charon is already at the bottom of the stairs and looking at Cassidy.

"What is he doing here?"

"I don't know he won't tell me."

And it's an honest reply, too. I really don't know what Cassidy is doing here. Actually, I don't know why he's really even in the Capital Wasteland to be honest. He never gave me a clear explanation. All he said was that he was 'worried' about me. Yeah. Brahmin shit.

"You have no right to be here."

Charon says to Cassidy. It's enough to get the point across, and make Cassidy leave without another word. Crisis averted once again with the force of Charon. Sighing, I look at him as he turns away from me.

"You know…sometimes, I'm the one at fault for things people do."

I tell him, hoping maybe some of his anger for once, could be placed properly.

"I am aware of that."

"So…maybe you shouldn't hate Cassidy so much."

"Perhaps."

I feel sad. Charon disappears into the kitchen, and I sigh. Following him, I watch quietly as he searches for something to eat. So quiet. When we'd live together, it was never this silent. There was always something to say, something to discuss. There was laughter, and we'd reminisce about the past. You know, the good parts of it. Now, it feels like there's big, gaping black hole between us, and I can't find the right words to say.

So I don't say anything. I walk over to him, and wrap my arms around his waist. Pressing my face into his back, I sigh and close my eyes.

"What are you doing?"

"Holding you."

I feel him move, but I hold on tighter. His arms graze mine, and I can feel his chest moving up and down from his breathing.

"Is there a reason for doing this?"

"…I just missed you. I just…want us to be like the way we were."

"We will be."

"…When?"

"I do not know."

Pulling away from him, I let him turn around. Looking up at him, I wonder…if he's right. If…we'll ever be the same, or if this space between us will just keep growing until…we're so far apart, we're strangers. It feels like, we're strangers already.

"…While we're here, we should say everything that was needed to say in the past, except didn't."

I want to rewrite this ending. I want to rewrite our story together, and make it bright and happy from the beginning. I don't want this, to end like a horror movie. I want this to end like a tragic romance, where…the guy gets the girl, and everyone cries tears of happiness. Charon looks down at me, those perfectly shaped eyes of blue, holding five years of secrets. I should have seen the signs, saw everything I missed. But I didn't. I didn't, and this is the end result.

"There is nothing I have to say."

I bite my lip to avoid crying. Offering my hand to him, I want him to hold it. He stares at it, but then his fingers wrap around my own.

"…Someone once told me, that we shouldn't think of our pasts, because they don't involve our future."

Charon thinks, remembering the words he said to me. The words, he said in comfort when I was upset. We were young in our relationship back then.

"People can be wrong."

"You also said people do bad things. That sometimes we have no control over those things, because we have to do them to survive. And that it doesn't make us a bad person, but it makes us stronger."

"Do you remember everything I have ever said to you?"

I stare at him, defiant with my eyes narrowed.

"Yes."

Charon sighs, his hand falling from mine. We sit down at the makeshift table, and the two of us light cigarettes. Introducing, the talk. The talk that is needed, but dreaded by people in relationships all around.

"You act as if you do not listen."

I raise an eyebrow at him. Since when is this about me and my non-existent attention span?

"I do listen. Remember when I was sick? Remember, from Quinn shooting me? I said that I trusted you. That you'd take care of me, and you'd always return to me even if you didn't want to. I trusted you to never hurt me."

"I did hurt you, and I did leave. Numerous times."

"Let me finish. You always came back, Charon. No matter what, you've come back to my side. Sure I may have done a little something or other to get you back, but in the end it was _your_ choice. You always did. And…you never, really hurt me. I guess, when I think of hurt, I think that it's bringing someone near death, or even killing them. You've never done that."

"I almost did."

"I'm still here, aren't I?"

Charon inhales on his cigarette, looking at me, looking through me. I remember Rivet City, and use it to break the silence.

"Charon always follows Pluto, right?"

"That is correct."

"Then…in return, Pluto should follow Charon for a bit."

"What?"

I look at him, the same way I looked at him in Rivet City after surgery. I want everything about him, just like I did back then. I want his touch, his love, his affection, care, and protection. He knows this, too. I don't know anymore, if he wants to give it to me, or if he just doesn't want to see me die. But, either way, whatever choice he picks, it means he still cares. Still cares enough, to at least pretend. I'll do anything, to get the horror back. The thrill of being with him, the rebellious and defiant air that followed us. The lust, we felt for one another. The insanity, and the high we got off of that insanity. The past, as dark as it is, holds such strong emotions. I still think, Charon and I, can write one of the worst romances ever known. People out there still disagree with us, with what we do together, and it's things like that, that made wanting this adventure so much fun. He is the anti-prince, of my story. He is protective, domineering, threatening, and…everything, a woman in their right mind…looks for in a man. I will die, before I let him slip away from me again. Die, before he becomes just a friend to me. Charon is everything I have. He is all I have. He made this story with me, and I'll be damned if he leaves before the ending.

"You've followed me through everything. Everything, pertaining to myself. The last time we did anything for you was when I got a bullet to the brain."

"And it is reasons like that why we stopped."

"Charon, this time, it is you. I will do everything I can, to get you back. To come home to the Charon I used to come home to."

He flicks ash from his cigarette, as I take a drag of mine. He stays quiet, though, like he's thinking things over. Getting out of the chair, I leave my cigarette in the pre-war ashtray. On my knees in front of him, I lie my head on his knees, and wrap my arms around his thighs.

"Dezbe?"

Pressing my cheek into his thigh, I close my eyes.

"Just tell me, how to bring you back. Tell me, what I have to do. I'll do anything. I want…the Charon who loved me back. I want…to laugh with you again, and I want us to have a few more adventures. I want you to be happy. Even if…even if you're not happy with me, I'll let you go. Just…_tell_ me."

Charon puts his hands on my head, running his fingers through my hair. It's a comforting gesture, but I don't feel comforted by it. Instead, it just hurts inside, because it reminds me of the tenderness he showed so easily in the past. The tenderness and caring, that I've come to miss so badly.

"You are not young anymore. There are limitations, to what you can do now."

"I don't _care_. I'm only like, thirty-two. I can do everything I did before, maybe even, more."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because I'm smarter now, Charon. I know what I want. I've never known it so clearly before."

"What is that?"

"You, stupid."

On the kitchen floor, Charon hugs me. His arms lift me off of my knees, and he brings me into his chest. Silently, I let tears come out. I missed hearing his heart beating so close to mine. Missed these arms, where I was most safe. I missed feeling his love, his power, his everything. He holds me tight, close to him. He could kill me right now, if he wanted to. At any point in time, this man could have been the end of me. But he never tried. He never, wanted to hurt me.

"You're still my superhero, Charon."

I tell him, and I feel his lips press against the top of my head.

"If…you wish to know, then I will…tell you. I cannot guarantee, we will find the answers we seek. I have sought them out for five years, and returned with nothing. This may be, a fruitless effort."

Looking up at him, with fresh tears in my eyes, I hold back crying more.

"But at least we tried."

Charon sighs, and nods. Standing up, I take my seat on the chair and rest my head on the table. It's too early for such a heavy talk, but it's needed.

"What happened, while you were away?"

I ask him, losing myself once again in him. In his eyes, his voice, I always lose myself. But, if I didn't, I don't think I'd be me.

"I went in search of questions I had long carried with myself. Sought out families of my victims, and traced employers back to their roots. Within the solitude, my mind I suppose reorganized itself. I lost sense of what was truly important. I had thought it began when we parted ways, but soon I began to realize it was before then. When the blackouts occurred, I would forget more and more, and as you know emotions and showing them became less and less. Ultimately, I decided I had to face my past, if I ever wanted to have a future. Knowing, however, the harm I brought to you during our time due to my own mind, I thought it best for me to seek this out alone. The only thing that has ceased, are the blackouts. I still, have many unanswered questions."

Charon's summary is deep and important. But yet again my lack of attention and one-track mind totally misses that and I'm off in another world.

"So, how do we fix it?"

Really it's all I'm concerned with. Because this is how I see it, okay? We fix this problem, and Charon is as Charon was. _Then_ I'll be able to listen to all these things with a real ear, because I won't be so worried. Right now I'm worried his attitude will cause him to leave. If he leaves, we both lose, but I understand that he's not in total control of everything yet. Remnants of past Charon still exist, which is why he came back to me. As long as those remnants hold out, he'll be here. And I'll be next to him, helping as much as I can.

"I…do not know."

Thinking, I begin to pace as I smoke the rest of my cigarette. Remembering wise words of people I encountered in the past, advice given by my dad, and Charon's own teachings, I'm able to somehow formulate a half-assed but still good plan. It's a real shot in the dark, but…I'll take anything that holds water at this point.

"You said…the facility was at the Citadel, right?"

"At the time it was called the Pentagon."

"Okay, but either way, what if we went there?"

"We have been there before."

"I know that. But not for these reasons. Think, Charon. You knew about the filing room, what else is there that no one could have fucked with? That you haven't thought about?"

I put my cigarette out in the ashtray, and fold my arms over my chest. Charon thinks, and he's thinking really hard. I can tell by his serious face and narrowed eyes. He rubs his hand over his face as he puts his own cigarette out, and finally, after what feels like forever, he talks.

"Everything."

What?

"What do you mean?"

"We were only kept in above-ground rooms before puberty. After that, as the training and teachings became more and more intense, they moved us below ground. I did not think, of going back and accessing those old chambers."

"Can you? Are they guarded?"

"Perhaps by turrets but there are always terminals to deactivate them with the correct numbers and passwords."

"Then we go to the Citadel ruins."

"I fail to see what this accomplishes other than putting ourselves in danger, once again."

I smile at him, and even though I don't need a marker, I put one on my map anyways.

"Going back there might help. And going in and of itself…will bring back the old days."

"The old days?"

"Dezbe and Charon! Fighting bad guys and not abiding by any rules or laws! Shooting all that moves, camping beneath starry skies, and finding an ending to all the madness once more!"

Charon stares at me as I wave my hands in the air. This is nothing to celebrate about, but I'm a rebel. I think positive.


	35. Worn Out Places, Worn Out Faces

Getting to the Citadel ruins wasn't hard. Actually, it was fun. Charon and I were able to remember what it was like, before the bad came to take us over. We built fires, and talked a lot. He told me things about his past that I didn't know much about. Like a more detailed story of his life in the facility. Sometimes he'd let me know about the five years we spent apart, and what happened then. Most of the time, though, we just talked about how strange it was that neither one of us could ever move on totally from the other. How when apart, we both hoped the other person was happy, and would accept anger if given to us by the other. Both of us, blamed ourselves for what happened. Ultimately, we learned we could blame anything but events we had no control over. Even though we're still ridden with guilt, it's nice to know there's clear air between us. I like knowing, that there's still a shot for us, and that the worst isn't the worst at all.

Charon didn't change much, though. In just coming here, I had hoped that the nights spent by fire would remind him of who he once was, but the past he holds so close still has a grip on him. It forces him to act as he did with a contract, even though he won't admit it. He got mad at me for writing a contract in the dirt. When he told me his discomfort with it, I knew we hadn't made any progress. Because the Charon I knew, would have laughed at it alongside me. The odds are so much against us right now, but I always remind myself that it's been that way from the start. But still, we've always overcome. We've always triumphed. I hope, one last time, we can still do that.

"Alright, here we are. Now what?"

I say to Charon as we come to the crumbled structure that once was the Citadel. The gate that let everyone in and out is gone, due to the bomb the Outcast placed in it. Charon almost died that day. He almost died, in the place where he came from. Irony, you are so ironic.

"Follow me."

So I do. Stepping over weathered debris and bent steel rods, I follow Charon. Since no one's been here to upkeep this place, what's left standing looks like it'll fall at the slightest touch. I'm not sure I want to think about what'll happen if it does fall. Charon says everything is underground, though. That it had to be. Since everything was kept top secret, everything had to be away from prying eyes and curious outsiders. Their facility was so secret, Charon says, that even the president didn't know about it. Another reason why, he claims, is that they were kept underground unless it was for training. The yard we're walking across, the same yard the Brotherhood trained its Knights and Initiates in, Charon trained on. I try not to think of that, as we walk. Try not to think about how many kids died, where my feet step. Charon, it seems, has no problem with it.

I didn't know about any of this when we first came to the Citadel, but Charon did. Thinking back I realize he never showed any discomfort or unpleasant behavior at being back. He just acted like he always did. It's scary to think of how well you don't know a person. How much, and how easy it is, to hide things. With one sentence, Charon was able to sum up life in this place, and yet with one suggestion he was able to return to it. I don't think, I would have went to the Brotherhood if I had known about Charon's past like I do now. I don't think, if I was him, I'd have the courage to go back. But that's what makes us different. He has courage that I lack. I admire him, and envy him, for those reasons.

Charon leads me inside, and down to where Liberty Prime was held. I miss that stupid robot. It was pretty cool, with all it's abilities and ways of fighting. Plus what it screamed wasn't too bad, either. But I'm sure Charon isn't thinking about Liberty Prime right now. I'm positive, there's much more on his mind, than a giant robot attacking bad guys. This world reminds me of a comic book, almost. You know, with its giant robots and villains and heroes and whatnot. Just putting that thought out there.

"Charon?"

"Yes?"

"Where are we going?"

Charon leads me to a terminal that once activated Liberty Prime. He folds his arms in front of his chest, and sighs.

"This was the terminal to access the lower levels. Are you still well with computers?"

I crack my knuckles and sit down at it. Looking up at him, I smile. He doesn't smile back, but I didn't expect Mr. Grumpy Pants to anyways.

"Just tell me what I need to do."

Powering up the terminal, Charon and I stare at the green and black screen, numbers and roots appear in front of me. The option to 'open lower chambers' isn't available, but I didn't think it would be that easy.  
"Access the main system files."

I click away, doing just what he asks. All terminals are the same, really. You can access the same files with the same key-codes if you know how, since it's all based off of one primary skeleton.

"Alright. Here we go."

I hit one more key, and in front of me three options appear. One is to reset the mainframe, one is to unlock all sealed doors, and another is to unlock the main entrance underground.

"First unlock all the doors."

"Why?"

"Because even if we get in downstairs, the doors will still be locked."

"Makes sense."

Sad I didn't realize that in the beginning. But either way, I hit the option and look at Charon. Waiting for the okay to continue with the last option, I stare at him.

"…Open it."

"Charon, are you sure?"

"Yes."

Charon nowadays won't show emotion. But I can see on his face, the stress and fright. Without arguing, I hit the keys and let it all unfold. The desk in front of me begins to shake, and Charon pulls me away. We watch, silently, as it all goes away. The platform where Liberty Prime once stood, the desk and terminal, it all comes to life and parts. Opening, with a million three-hundred-year-old machines moving everything. Technology, at least this type, was built to last. The only question I have…is why? Why, if so secret, would they make it so durable? Wouldn't they have wanted their secrets, along with everything else, to perish with the war? There's something more to this, I can feel it in my bones.

In front of us where Prime's platform once stood along with the desk, is a stainless steel and shimmering staircase. Charon and I look at one another. The right words are lost to me again, but I swallow hard and try anyways. I have a bad feeling.

"Ready?"

I ask him, shuddering from the cool breeze coming from somewhere.

"Yes."

Charon leads the way down, once again. At the bottom of the stairwell, is a shimmering, almost white, steel floor. The same type of walls surround the case on either side, and I make it a point to stay close to Charon. This place may be abandoned, but I don't feel safe. It has a smell to it. A smell that reminds me of the vault. But, why? When we get to the bottom, we're in a corridor. One hall in front, and two on either side. Signs light the way for navigation, similar to signs in a vault. The walls, though, and the cleanliness, give way to a wry and foreboding feeling. I read the signs, as does Charon, as he takes his time remembering.

In front is the Mess Hall, to my left, Sleeping Quarters, and to my right, Offices. The signs glow yellow, with black lettering. I look over at Charon, as he stares down the Sleeping Quarters hall.

"This way."

For a few short feet, there's nothing. Loudspeakers hang on the walls every few feet, as if this place doesn't echo enough. With the steel and the barrenness of it, our footsteps are almost deafening. Before I realize it, we're at the entrance to the rooms. Each one, with a sign for age. I raise an eyebrow at this, and Charon touches the plate that has numbers.

"We were separated by age, once we were allowed here."

It goes all the way up to the twenties, and then…nothing.

"What about…if you came of age and still hadn't finished training?"

"You were executed."

He says it so calmly, like it's no big deal. As if in a trance, Charon enters the room we're closest to, on our left. The room with the plaque he was touching. As the same style of door as we had in the vault opens, the lights turn on, and I take in the sight. Two rows of neatly made cots go far down to a distant wall. Each one, has a name holder. A clear plastic square, used to tell which person slept in which bed.

"We had no names, only numbers."

I nod my head as I refrain from touching anything. This isn't the place for my curious nature. I don't want to touch anything, either. This entire underground lair, this place, it gives me a sick feeling.

"Charon…how did the Brotherhood not know of this? They have far better hackers than me."

"Because you can only find it if you are looking for it."

"What? No, if you just open up the drive you can open it."

"But you cannot open it before unlocking all the doors. Lyons knew this was here, he did not want anyone to find it."

I remember back to when we invaded the Citadel, and how Lyons had mentioned he knew of Charon's origins.

"So…why didn't Lyons want this? This technology this…"

"That is what we came here to discover."

See I was under the impression we came here to help Charon. Not uncover mysterious mysteries that have little to nothing to do with us. Now isn't the time to go blowing up with inane questions, though. Looking at Charon, I can tell it bothers him, being here and all. Not in a usual way, though. Seems to me, like his memories are reliving themselves. And why wouldn't they be? We're here, after all, the place that created him.

"Maybe we should look in the other rooms? Might be something useful, you know?"

Charon stares at a bed instead of answering me. He goes and touches the bronze foot post on it, and sighs.

"This was my bed. I was always the fifth bed to the right."

Walking over to him, I stand beside him.

"Even when you switched rooms?"

"Yes. The rooms have different numbers of beds. It decreases as you go along."

"Why does it decrease?"

Do I really even want to know the answer to that question?

"Because people died here, Dezbe. Almost every day."

"What did they do with the bodies?"

"They burned them."

I swallowed hard, not wanting to know the answers anymore. This place, even though it's abandoned now, still holds that feeling. That feeling of overwhelming sadness and dread. The same kind of feeling I'd get, when I'd walk into the crematorium in the vault. We'd have a mock funeral, for the dead person, and everyone would be so sad. Since everyone knew everyone, all were affected when someone died. The feeling I felt growing up, as elders died, is the same one I get in this room. I can't stand it, really.

"I want to see the rest of the facility. I was never able to access the offices. Perhaps, now it is a possibility."

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"Security."

As we leave the room, I take note of all I see. Loud speakers, signs, numerical plaques, shimmering walls and signs saying 'No Smoking or Alcoholic Beverages on Premises'. Charon walks with his eyes dead-set on the hall in front of us, and even though I'm looking every which way and see no danger, I can't help the feeling of being watched. As if something will come out and snatch me. I stand closer to Charon, I bit scared. He looks down at me.

"I'm just jumpy."

I tell him, and he looks on ahead.

"I suppose I got use to that feeling. Eventually someone would come. It was always like that."

Creepy. Still, I know my fears are unjustified. I can't help but think of how clean this place is, though. After three centuries, you'd think something would dirty. Vault 112 was clean, but that was because of the Robobrains. Nothing here, no robots or anything, would keep this place clean. Dust, debris _something_ should have made a mark. There isn't even a scratch or dent in the walls. Maybe if it was a bit more unkempt, I would feel safer.

Entering the office through a door, Charon and I are greeted by a large room. Lines of desks, like the beds were, on either side. Each one has a terminal, and there's no turrets of any kind. On the back of the far facing wall, is what I'd assume to be the head desk. If there's any information stored here, it'd be on that computer.

"Charon this is too easy. Why isn't there a turret system?"

"Because we knew better, than to step out of line."

Alright that's a fair enough answer. Charon and I walk down the silent rows of desks with terminals, to the last one in front of us. It has a comfortable looking chair behind it, and I stare at him. We're on his grounds, he calls the shots.

"Go on."

He says, pushing me towards the chair. All the warnings and red flags are going up in my head. They're all saying the same thing. Not to do this, to go back up the steps, and leave the Citadel ruins for good. But I don't listen to my red flags. I should, though, especially given past events. Sitting in the chair, I turn on the terminal and wait. Charon stands beside me, and I look around the room to see if there's anything I missed. This seems like the only place, that doesn't have loudspeakers. But, if an announcement was made, shouldn't everyone hear it? This place, gets weirder and weirder. Maybe back then though, their thinking was different. It could be that, or maybe I'm just being paranoid. Thinking of all the people who were kept here, gives me the creeps either way.

"That's odd."

I say as the terminal turns on.

"What?"

"There's nothing here. No options. Hang on, let me check the system."

And I do just that. After a few clicks of the keyboard, something pops up. History, really. I read through it, with Charon looking over my shoulder. All it is, is a log of when all the files, information, pictures, were deleted. Charon lets out a groan, and slams his fist down on the steel desk.

"Nothing! There is nothing here!"

I try not to panic as he grows quiet. Moving back to reading the logs, I check and double check them again. Then, I get even more confused.

"Charon, things weren't deleted."

Looking up at him, I sigh. He stares at me, and stares at the computer. I point to a line on the screen.

"Right here, it says the files, everything, was downloaded to a _different_ source. Then, it was wiped. But, what source? There's no other facilities, is there?"

"No. That is odd. Check the system for anything else."

It scares me how quickly he can go from angry to calm. Being in this place stresses him out. Even though I'm acting nervous, Charon's the real issue. I notice those small twitches his hands do, and the way he walks is different in here, than it is on the outside. Right now, I should really just focus on searching the terminal system. So far I've found nothing but the standard stuff that comes with purchasing a terminal. I'm about to give up and give Charon the bad news, when my hand slips and by sheer luck of a misguided key press, I find something.

"Charon…"

That something opens up more questions than answers. Charon looks at the terminal, and I can tell by the look on his face, he wasn't expecting this either.

"What should we do, then?"

I ask him, nervous to hear his answer. On the screen, there's a single option. 'Open Vault Tunnel Entrance'. That means…there is a vault here, beneath this structure itself. In other words, there are still inhabitants. But, I know all the vaults in this area, that's impossible. Someone, anyone, should have mentioned this vault. It's built right beneath the Citadel. Looking for more than one answer, I stare at Charon.

"I had not thought, that there would be a vault here. Yet it makes sense."

I jump up from my seat, a bit on edge from lack of nicotine since I'm being good and abiding by the no-smoking rule.

"Make _sense_? Charon how in the _world_ does any of this _make sense_? There's underground lairs beneath the Citadel, and now there's a _vault_ too! Charon! This is entirely crazy!"

Charon straightens his back and looks at me. As if he knows, he lights a cigarette, and hands it to me. I take it with no objection. I was only not smoking so I could respect the place he came from. I'm talking about it like it's his own mother's womb for fuck's sake.

"It makes perfect sense. As you know, all the vaults were a part of Vault-Tec's experimentations, each one completely used to manipulate people as well as protect them for the impending holocaust. Each citizen was kept dumb to the true natures of vaults. This place, the Pentagon as it once was, housed many important people. When the bombs fell, many of those people would have been unable to reach safety in time. When this was built, I can assume that it was built for the intention of the people working on the facility, as only specialized people were granted access here. There were many secrets to protect, as you first found out with the Talons, and again with both the Brotherhood and the Outcasts. To protect those secrets from possible enemies, my trainers must have utilized Vault-Tec's technology to secure their safety, and the safety of their secrets. It all makes sense now, why when the Wolf Cries would emit, no one here panicked."

"Anyone ever tell you, you're really quick-thinking?"

"It has nothing to do with quick-thinking. Simple observation and knowing would make anyone come to that conclusion."

I take a well-needed drag of my cigarette, and stare at Charon.

"Well, what's the plan, then? Do we open it?"

"Yes."

As scared as I am, as much as my mind is telling me not to open the vault tunnel, I do what Charon wants. I listen to him, because this is his time. He wants the answers, although I can't imagine now what they could be. After all this time, he's still curious about this place. Against my own willpower, I find I am, too.


	36. Come On and Use Me

(Charon)

I did not expect this. I did not expect, either, that upon our arrival we would find this place in such pristine condition. It looks as if someone came here, and cleaned the entire thing on an almost daily basis. Even when I was living in this place, I never witnessed it so clean. Perhaps without the dirtiness of shoes and the presence of people, keeping it clean is not difficult. Yet, who would? There are no robots, and I cannot imagine someone from the upper levels would know of this place's existence. I should not be so shocked. Knowing now, there is a vault beneath this place, many more questions and opportunities present themselves.

My trainers were not stupid. Them building this vault should have been common knowledge with my observational skills, yet I overlooked it. People do not build vaults, however, to simply house secrets and files. I know better, than to have hopes of that. No, when the Wolf Cries would come, no one panicked. For good reason, too. I see that now. Since they knew that a vault was present nearby, there was no alarm to panic. No reason, for them to rush and give away the location of something so heavily guarded. This place was not only intended to house the secrets this place held, but the people and employers, as well. Often, I wondered what had happened to those who worked here after the bombs fell. In my travels I found nothing. I know now, why I found nothing. Everything was locked up here, safe, inside this vault.

As Dez clicks the option to open the vault tunnel, I step away from the desk. It moves away, a circular opening appearing on the floor. It gives way to a similar staircase that we traveled down, stainless steel, bright, yet smaller. I count only ten steps before the flooring begins once more. Whomever made this vault, made it easily accessible, and close to the facility. I would not be shocked, if they were the ones to keep this place so mint.

"Dezbe, I need you to listen to me."

I tell her to get her attention. Looking at me while she smokes her cigarette, I see the fear and fright upon her face.

"Whatever is down there, no matter what, I need you to stay close to me. Do not say anything to anyone, without my permission. If so, choose your words very carefully."

"Charon?"

"Dezbe, you have to listen to me or I will leave you here. Do you understand?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"Good. Come."

I do not like to give her orders, but it is necessary. I know, how these people work. I know, they will do anything to gain control over you. Nothing is too low or sacred for them, and if needed they will kill your own mother before your eyes to get you to obey them. There is nothing they will not do. I cannot allow them to know who Dezbe is, and what she means to me. She must stay close, and within arm's reach if not closer. My trainers were not stupid nor obvious. There were many trapdoors in both their methods of teaching, and their architectural planning.

We begin our descent, and although short, I feel as if years have past. My breath can be heard in my ears, and my heart beats faster and faster the closer I come. Footsteps echo upwards as we continue down. The floor you can see from the top of the steps, yet it takes forever to reach. Before I lay my foot down upon it, I look back at Dezbe to see how close she is following. Less than a step away from me, Dez puts out her cigarette on the wall. I have no objections to it, but she looks as if she is about to be scolded. I will say nothing to her, as long as she can follow my instructions. If something were to happen to her, if they were able to take her from me…I do not know how I will react.

Coming to the floor, Dez and I stand side by side. Her chest touches my arm, and the closeness reminds me of the dangers that may lie ahead. She grabs my arm, her nails digging into my leather sleeve. Before us, a standard vault-door with the number '110' on it. Two red-dotted turrets hold guard at the keypad needed to gain access.

"What do we do now?"

Dezbe asks me, in a hushed whisper. I say nothing, as I watch the turrets watch us. It is a long moment of silence, before noise is heard on the other side.

"Remember, say nothing. Do not leave my side."

"Even if they have candy?"

Her quick wit lightens the mood for me, but it is temporary. The familiar sounds of mechanical devices kicking in grabs my attention. I look first at the turrets that were so keen on watching us. Their red dots turn off, telling me they are no longer active. Dezbe goes to reach for her gun, but I stop her.

"Do not. Wait. I will protect you against danger."

Silently Dez's arm falls back down and she leaves her gun at her hip. I know they will take her weapons, but they will not take mine. If this place holds who I think it does, then they will know of me. They will know better, than to ask me to relinquish my weapon. If they do, it is stupidity on their part.

Frozen in fear, Dezbe watches the gear-like door in front of us hiss out steam. It is not nearly as filthy as the other vault doors, but instead matches the perfect cleanliness of this place. Shimmering, shining, the yellow numbers stand bright and tall in the center of the door. My heart beats louder, faster, as it begins the opening process. Memories of this place have been flooding my mind since the departure from Megaton. Only now, do they worry me. I cannot let myself be distracted, in a place like this. A place where I need to be on constant alert, and constant guard. A place I cannot allow them to find out, that we are suspicious of them.

As the door opens, I feel Dez holding my arm tighter. She may be scared, but I must not show my fear. It is alright for her to be scared, because I am here to protect her. Although this place is my own problem, the source of everything, she decided to come here. Her kindness in that, her willingness to help, will not go unheeded. Here, I will keep her safe. I would rather them take me, than take her from me.

Four figures appear behind the door. The smell of cleanliness and sterile areas fill my nostrils, as the figures make themselves known. All of them, are men in suits. Business suits, the same pre-war style one would wear at this facility. Three of them are wearing brown suits, white undershirts, and brown ties. The one up front, is wearing a black suit, with white undershirt, and black tie. He, I am assuming, is someone of importance here. Guns are on all of them, except the man of importance. He looks like he is in his forties, his skin is paler than most Wastelanders, and I am assuming that is because of vault-life. He has dark brown, almond eyes and combed back black hair with gray in it. A broad jaw, yet a weak one, and a pointed nose. I think of the marketing for perfect employers, when I look at him.

"It's nice, to finally meet you."

The man's sentence takes me back a bit, but I do not show it. There is something…strangely familiar about him. As if we have met before. I look down at Dez to see if she feels the same, but her expression is locked in shock and disbelief. I stare out at the man, men, wondering…what is the purpose of all of this? And what exactly does he mean, by his statement? Both Dez and I remain silent. I cannot think of any reply worth saying. Remembering my training, I also remember not to speak unless having something useful to say.

"Charon, isn't it? And your counterpart here, Dezbe."

"How do you know of this?"

I ask him, taking note of his calm if not pleased disposition. His men eye me carefully, up and down. There are scars on their faces. Scars that are all too familiar to me.

"There's plenty of time for that in a bit. Why don't you and her come inside, and out of that world. I can assure you, ours is much cleaner."

When we do not move, the man looks back, and gives a sly smile.

"That, friends, is an order."

With Dezbe clinging to my arm, I know far better than to disobey here. These people, with their scars and way of speaking, are the descendants of those who ran the facility. They know then, the ins and outs of my training, contractual obligations, and all the strings that bind me to the puppet master. They have the advantage here, and it does not sit well with me. As Dezbe and I enter, the door closes behind us. I take note, of what we are walking into.

The vault is built upon a series of catwalks. This is noticeable as we follow the nameless man blindly. Below, I recognize, are training grounds. Various machines for exercising, dummies and punching bags, targets, all the assets a well-stable and effective area needs to train good soldiers. There is a podium for announcements, as well as fights and public executions. I can see the blood, from where I walk. This place nearly, is an exact replica of the one that once was above ground. The sheer fact this is all below the ground is in and of itself amazing to me, whilst the purpose of it, the reason why it is here, makes my blood boil.

Below there are exits and entrances to cubic structures that are rooms and mess halls, The place is significantly smaller, and there is no lawn for training on. Simply steel and metal. Above, seem to hold the same cubic rooms. Each catwalk lead to another, and some lead to a four-way meeting of them. Some lead to cubic structures, others to different parts. It seems it is built this way, so that the supervisors and trainers can observe their trainees with ease and finesse. I hope, they do not show the children to me. I have only just quieted them in my mind.

"What do you think of the new grounds? I've only seen the ruins of the Pentagon and Citadel, but from the pictures of the past I'd say this is a great improvement. Don't you think?"

I say nothing, and the man looks back at me. He smirks, as if he knows something I do not.

"Vault technology is amazing. We're able to all live and train here with ease. Come, there is a lot to discuss. And, explain."

He leads us inside a cubic structure. Inside, it looks like a meeting room. A long, slender steel table surrounded by leathery chairs sits in front of us. There is a Nuka-Cola machine, and I catch Dez's wandering eye. She had best not try anything.

"Sit, sit. After all, this time around, you're a guest."

I do as he tells me, placing Dez in the seat next to me. Knowing their schemes and having an idea of their forms of plan, I wrap my foot around the leg of Dez's chair. As a man, these men would easily have matched my strength two-to-one, yet as a ghoul, it will take far more than three, or four if the man in black decides to join, to overpower me and my set of skills.

"Tell me, Charon, what brings you here after al these years?"

"I feel it is you, who needs to explain things to us."

I tell him, whilst watching Dez from the corner of my eye. As his followers sit obediently on either side of him, the man in black stretches and folds his hands on the table.

"Ah, right. I forgot you don't know much of this place. Where to start…where to start? Well, you do, or rather _did_ know my father, Elder Lyons."

"Elder Lyons was your father?"

I ask although he has already answered my question. This tale, grows more and more abundant as it continues on. I am quick to realize that.

"Yes. You see, when you were here in this compound, or rather, above it, there was a lot more than simple training taking place. Not only were we preparing mercenaries for protection before the war, but after, as well."

"You knew the war was definite?"

"Of course. After all, why else would Vault-Tec agree to built vaults such as this? Either way, as my ancestors were busy at hand training you and your kin, they were also busy planning the future. As you now know, Lyons was my father. My name, Andrew Lyons. Elder Lyons left here when I was young, as did many of my grandfathers before my time. They would often come back, each reporting that the land was still too disorganized to go out in. None of us are stupid of the outside world, though, we just have unfinished work here. But, for more interesting subjects, it's finally good to see you in the flesh. Or, lack thereof, it seems. Radiation?"

"How do you know about me?"

Andrew lights a pre-war cigar, and leans back in the leather chair. Dez stares up at me, dumbfounded by the new knowledge.

"Charon who _doesn't_ know? You were the best thing to come out of this place, and by far, most dangerous. We took special precautions with you. We needed to preserve you."

"Why?"

"Because of your outstanding abilities. Even now, no one has surpassed you in training, skills, knowledge, obedience, anything. Everything from the very minute of your release, was pre-calculated. Including your contract falling into the hands of John. You see, we needed an employer to own you who was against all that we had trained you for. One who also had money and access to a vault. He was the prime candidate, ensuring your survival of the war. Since then, we've been keeping tabs on you."

"Tabs? As in you have been watching me? I fail to see how that is possible."

"In your existence past the war, haven't you ever noticed anything…uncanny? People coming in and out of Underworld, watching you and only you, and simply leaving, never to be seen or heard from again? Here, I'm sure this lady can remember. About how Three Dog is always able to know where you both are, at any given time and moment? Dezbe, your suspicions of being watched at night while traveling with him were not for any displaced paranoia. I believe you remember the man who left the cryptic message in the dirt one night years back? Dezbe I'm sorry to have involved you in this, but when your hands fell upon Charon's contract it was against our planning. Ahzrukhal was one of my trained men, specially trained as they all were, to deal with Charon and his abilities, keep him within reach until we were ready for him. I had to send out people, connected all through radio of course, and working with Three Dog, to make sure tabs on your were kept. You've done quite a good job, I must say, at disbanding all my messengers. We've just lost sight of you, until now, that is."

Dezbe looks at me in fear, and I feel hear hand touch my thigh beneath the table. If all he says is true, then he not only knows of Dezbe and her meaning to me, but our relationship, and my learning's. This is dangerous.

"If you know all about me, why is it you have me here now, then?"

"You brought yourself here, it wasn't in my plan but it works either way. But, let me finish. Dezbe, your working with Charon has made him…change. It is a reason as to why we issue our mercenaries with same-sex employers. You threw a notch into our plans, but that worked itself out. Charon's mind cannot move onwards, without of course digging up the past. Normal regression for most people who undergo traumatic events. It brought him here, and ultimately, you did as I had initially planned. Brought him back."

"What is the need for my returning?"

"Charon, we can't have our best man forever free on the outside world now, can we? You've not only impressed us with training, but with your ability to learn and adapt to situations presented to us with this girl. Somehow, for a short time, you were able to be and feel and act as a normal being. This is a flaw in our plans, but a flaw we hope to fix with your help."

"Tell me what it is you intend to do with the people you train here."

"Do as the Enclave, Outcasts, Brotherhood, NCR, Caesar's Legion, and other useless groups did across the Wasteland and failed. Bring order and structure to this country once and for all. Simply, we've been waiting centuries for not only our army to be ready, but for you. Because without you, we cannot fix the flaws and therefore, cannot be ready."

He is wishing to do, what so many before him have tried at and failed. This will not be good, and I do not wish to take part in this, but for now I must pretend to be interested. Pretend, that I will be willing to help. Perhaps even, his ideas are not so far-fetched. With an army as obedient as I once was, there will be no riots or undeserving death. It is possible he can preserve order, as the world once was with the resources at hand. I wonder if it is I who thinks to agree with him, or the training that has so embedded itself into my mind?

"But, that's enough business talk. Dezbe, you look tired and famished. Why don't you follow Gail here down to the showers and mess hall while Charon gets reintroduced to the place?"

She looks at me, her grip on my thigh growing tighter.

"Dezbe stays with me at all times."

I tell Andrew. For a moment there is a look of anger on his face. He knows this game, and he knows I am aware of it as well. Small suggestions, will not win either one of us over.

"Alright, fair enough. Why don't you both go down and freshen up, then?"

The showers here are sex-related. I would not be allowed under any circumstance to follow her into the women's bathing room, and vice versa. It is still a shock to me, that they have not confiscated our weapons.

"We are in no need of fresh resources. We are fine."

Andrew smokes his cigar, a slight look of annoyance in his eye. He has me, and knows if he removes Dezbe from my side, I will be forced to comply. Not only because I will no longer be with her, but also because he knows how to get my mind back into his hands. I remember now, who he reminds me of. My own trainer, centuries ago.

"Very well. You do understand, though, we simply cannot let you leave Charon, right? You're too valuable."

"I have heard that before. Do not treat me as I am a prisoner here once more, and I will not act as I did then."

"What are you saying?"

I lean forward, making sure he knows my stance and girth is not the only thing threatening about me.

"I have induced riots here. Your forefathers were terrified of me coming back to this place. Is that not in your files? Is it not in your files, that although I was the best one to come from this place, that I was also the worst? The one most likely, to return and extract revenge?"

Andrew read only what he wanted to read. He did not read the space, specific for recording disciplinary actions and events. His face, tells me all of this.

"It said nothing of that."

"I suggest you do further research, before letting a former student back into the place he hated most in the world."

I stand up, and as I do three of the men stand with me. I position my body in front of Dez's, my plan not yet calculated.

"Show us a room for board. I will sleep on the choice to work with you."

Andrew knows it is best to do as I say. I am taller than his men, and much more dangerous. For a short time, I have the power. I must utilize this to the best of my abilities, before I no longer have control.

"I should warn you, Charon, there isn't much of a choice."

I decide to say nothing. Behind me, Dez stands and clings to my belt. That is a wise choice for her to make. Andrew and I stare at one another, both holding careful ground and treading dangerous waters. Yet he knows, it is better to listen than not. Waving his hand, one of his men comes over to us.

"Follow me. I will show you to your room."

I nod goodbye to Andrew, and follow the man. As we step out of the room and onto the catwalk, I glance down below. Young children, are being led out to the makeshift field for training. I remember my own, and look away. To turn my back on all of this, will be an insult to all I have learned and discovered whilst without contract, and with Dezbe. Yet, I cannot shake the motives, words, and ways of Andrew's plan from my mind.


	37. I Don't Need You, to Be By My Side

The man leads us to another cubic structure in a different room of the vault. For a time being I believed the vault to be a single room, with smaller rooms built within. I was mistaken. The vault is much larger than I had initially thought. Yet the room he leads us to, is simply the sleeping quarters for men of higher rank. I can tell by the colors they wear. Brown suits seem to be security and staff, blue is workers, whilst black is the rare higher-ups. Trainees such as I once was, wear white jumpsuits. Instead of the typical vault number on the back of them, they wear their identification numbers, in black.

Dez follows behind me, her hands gripping my belt tightly. Although I can feel her hands, I look back every once in a while to make sure she is still there. The fear on her face, is none like I've ever seen before. She must understand the situation we are in, and knows there is a slim chance of escaping. Even I cannot properly formulate a plan, while my mind is this congested with thoughts and memories.

"This is where you'll be sleeping. If you require food, ring the intercom and it will be brought to you. There is a bathroom facility built in. You will be locked in until tomorrow morning."

He opens the door and we walk in, without so much as a glance in his direction. As soon as we are inside, and the door locked, Dez released her grip on my belt and dashes in front of me.

"What the _hell_ is going on?"

She demands, and rightfully so. Taking my gun from my back, and hers from her waist, I place them beside the bed we will share. Aside from that, a small table and chairs, and a small door leading to the bathroom, there is nothing. It is a plain, steel room, with no decoration or anything of sorts. I do not like the look, or the feel of it. Dez's eyes burn into me, demanding answers for questions she cannot ask.

"Well? We came here for answers, right? Did you find them?"

She is angry, and rightfully so. I did not expect this to happen.

"Yes. I did."

"What?"

I sit on the bed, and she sits beside me.

"I wondered, often, why I could not shake the feeling of this place from my mind. I know now, why that is. Why I felt the need to search for my past. When someone is constantly watching you, your subconscious mind recognizes that. They did not want me to move on from this place. They wanted me here, as I am now."

"We shouldn't have come."

"With or without your suggestion to travel to the Citadel, it was inevitable that I would arrive here in time. They would have brought me by force, if no other way."

Dez looks at me, refusing to abandon hope. With her now safe, my mind can think straight, think clear. Andrew's plan…it seems…as if it will work. I know this may sound crazy, but I was raised in this same structure. I know, that when they plan something they plan it with the intent of not only seeing it from every possible angle, but executing it perfectly. Andrew wishes, to create an army of sorts. I have a suspicion that people will also use the men and women here, in singles, as I was used, and as the others were. Protection, against those opposing government. He talked of order, the same plan the Brotherhood had. I suppose Elder Lyons, was to be the man to bring this world order and structure, but his plan was foiled, and the job passed down to his son. Yet, Andrew said himself, the men are not ready. Lyons, in his older hierarchy, perhaps thought differently. We learn from the mistakes of our fathers.

"Charon?"

Dez grabs my arm, breaking my thought process. I look at her. If I ask, will she, also, think that this plan is insane? Or rather, will she agree, and inform me my insanity is all simply in my own mind?

"Did you hear what Andrew's plan was?"

I ask her, and she looks at me. This should be the last thing on my mind, I am aware of that, yet I cannot help it.

"He wants to do what everyone else in a position of power wants, Charon. Bring law and order to not just the Capital Wasteland, but everything. Everything."

"…Under the ruling of anyone else, this plan would not work. Yet I know this place, know how it plans and executes said plans. There is a very slim chance, for failure."

Dezbe looks at me, shocked, her face draining of color and dropping. She stands up and lights a cigarette from the pocket of her vault-suit. After puffing on it, and pacing, she finally breaks.

"Are you fucking _crazy_, Charon? How many screws did you lose over the years, really? You're actually going to _side_ with the people who tortured you, maimed you, made you a…a…"

She stops herself mid sentence. Looking back at me, she picks up where she left off.

"Where in your stupid head do you think that taking over the world is a good idea? Tell me, Charon, where? Not only that but why do you think it's good to help the people you've told me time and time again that you hate?"

"They wish to not take over the world, but enforce a system of government that worked before the war. Their military, if using the people trained here, will obey and not cause harm to the innocent."

"Unless ordered to. Charon it's like communism! It looks all well and fine on paper but it just doesn't _work_."

"Dezbe, you do not know this facility. Their planning is immaculate. They have the ability and the technology to bring the Capital Wasteland, America, back to working form."

Dez sighs and exhales smoke, shaking her head at me.

"Charon, the world _is_ working! It's fine the way it is! If you want law, go to New Vegas. If you want freedom and lawlessness and fun guns, go into any Wasteland on the planet. It's pick and choose here, it's…it's perfect. Why, would you want to let anyone destroy that?"

"Because you were not around during the pre-war times. You do not know of the privileges, technologies and easy way of living they so had it to be."

"And what happened? What happened in 2077, Charon, what?"

"The Great War."

"_Exactly_! Has there been war since then? No. Has there been fighting and battles, yes but _no one_ uninvolved died! Charon…they weren't around either for pre-war. They're all _descendants _of those from your time."

"Your argument holds valid points."

"But?"

"But I cannot shake the idea that Andrew Lyons' plan is something better for the long-term of the Capital Wasteland."

Dez says nothing. Instead, she puts her cigarette in her mouth, and stares at me. I know of that look. I know, what she is thinking. Before I can stop her, she opens her hand and hits me across the cheek. A loud snapping noise echoes in the small room, as pain flows in my face. She still has one hard hit. I stare at her, as I move my head back in place. Her hands go from open to close, and she exhales tight plumes of smoke from her pale lips.

"If you do this, then I'll fight you on it."

"Dezbe?"

"What about Gob? And Zack? You don't know what they're really going to do, Charon! They could be lying! They could want it all for themselves, and slaughter everyone or take them and make them slaves like they did to you! I love you, Charon. I love you more than the sun and the night sky but…"

Tears form in her eyes. She stares at me, strong from the years, wise from the events, and knowing her place in this world, finally.

"…I can't sacrifice the future of Gob and Zack, for…the possibility of a brighter centenary. I can't…give my home away on a silver platter, to men that hurt and kill children."

"You would be saving far more children than you would be harming, if you cooperated."

She throws her cigarette on the ground, and stomps it out with her foot.

"You have this all figured out, don't you? You think these people will rise above, and take what's not theirs and make it better, somehow, don't you?"

"For the most part, yes."

Shaking her head, Dez moves across the room. My eyes follow her. I know her better than anyone. I know, she is planning something.

"Charon, look at my neck."

I do so, as she points to the old scar that faintly remains, after years and years of time. The scar, I inflicted upon her.

"You did this. You did this _knowing_ it would hurt me. The circumstances are no different now."

"You will come of no harm, I will make sure of that."

"And Gob, Zack? What about them?"

"They too will be safe."

"And…and the residents of Tenpenny? The friends we've made? Barrows and Graves?"

"Safe."

"The only thing missing from this, is your contract. After all this time, you're still loyal to the people who created you. I was stupid to think you'd be loyal to me. Stupid, that I could somehow help you in this when all along, it's been them. All this time, they've been the puppet masters, and you're nothing but a marionette. For a while your strings were tied, but now…now they're coming undone."

Tears stream down her face. I remain seated. How does she not understand this? These people, although the givers of horrid memories, have ensured my survival. Protected me by their own means, and made sure I was able to surpass the Great War and return to them. All of this, planned in advance. If they can do that for one being, what is stopping them from doing it for the country?

"I must do what is right, Dezbe. We have always done, what is right."

"Not at the risk of _us_!"

"The Purifier. It was not at your own risk? Disbanding the Brotherhood along with the Outcasts? Everything we have done, has put us at risk. This is no different."

She sniffs her nose and wipes the tears.

"This is different, Charon. Because for the first time, we're on opposing sides. I'm not a hero, I never wanted to be, but I am one. I saved this land, Charon. I won't stop saving it, either."

"What do you mean by that?"

"If you're on one side, and I'm on the other…it means we're enemies. Get me out of here. Tell them you'll work for them only if they let me go."

"Why would I do so, if we are on opposing sides?"

"So you're going to let them keep me here? Kill me, because I know they're not as stupid as the others? Because once they find out this conversation took place, they're killing me just like they killed people you slept beside."

"I will make sure they do not kill you, but you cannot leave here."

I stand up and take her gun from the floor. Carefully, I pull it apart, piece by piece, destroying the inner workings of it. She is not skilled in piecing together broken material, she will not be able, to fix this on her own. I must do what is right. This terrible place, this place I have hated, has followed me unbeknownst to my conscious self. They have protected me, saved me from war, and gave me such skills to do so. It is only right, that I in turn, aid them in helping the world, as they so arrogantly helped me.

"What are you doing with my gun?"

Dez asks, realizing only as I am finishing, what I am doing. She comes over behind me, and her hands stretch out violently, grabbing only the barrel from my hands, while the rest of the metallic pieces clank to the floor.

"Charon! What the hell did you do? What the _fuck_!"

I turn around and fold my hands. Panic sets in on her part. When will she understand? I am doing this to help her. I will not let them harm her, nor Gob, nor Zack nor anyone she claims to be friendly with. Does she not understand, as I am coming to understand, that this is for the better? That she can save her friends, with the power she has in her position?

"Have you lost your mind? Have you? Answer me! Charon!"

She is frantic, and grips the barrel of her gun in her hand, demanding to know the answers.

"No. I have not. I am doing this for your own safety, and mine. Dezbe, try to understand this is for the best."

"They drugged you, didn't they?"

"No. Dezbe, think of Andrew's plan. It will work. All your friends will not be harmed, no one will be harmed."

"Fuck you! Why did you do this? Tell me!"

"I did."

She slaps me again, and falls to her knees. Bursting into incoherent tears and words, Dezbe hides her face in her hands. I do nothing. I should react, but I do not. There is nothing in me, to cause a reaction.

"Why…?"

She croaks out, her hair falling limply over her hands and face.

"Because I am looking out for the betterment of us. For the world. Do you not want children? Want a family? With this it is possible. Would you not like a place of safety to raise them in?"

Looking up at me, she gives me a look of sheer pain and anguish. I have never seen such a look upon her face.

"I don't want a child, to be born in this place! I don't want to raise a family so they can take it from me! I don't want a child with someone as stupid as you!"

Throwing the barrel at my head, she returns to crying, a heap of mess upon the floor. It misses me, and clanks against the wall beside the bed.

"Stop it."

I tell her, but do not try to comfort her. She does not need comfort. Ignoring me, she remains on the floor, still crying. Her wails grow increasingly annoying with the short passage of time.

"I said stop!"

This time I yell, and hit my fist against the small table. Her wailing stops, and she looks at me. The look on her face, it sends a chill up my spine. Have I done this, once again? Am I the cause of those tears? Wet-faced, Dez's eyes are vacant and lost. She stares at me as if she does not recognize me. Her breathing is so quiet, I feel as if she is not doing it at all. We stare at one another, in silence, in thickness. In this dark steel room, Dezbe has no light shine on her. She, has lost, for the first time in her life.

"…Hey…Charon?"

Her voice is gravelly and sore. She peers at me through strands of hair. I step back.

"What?"

"…Have…have you ever loved someone…so much that…it hurt?"

"What?"

"No…no you…you've never loved anything…that much, have you? You've never…cared about anything, isn't…isn't that right? It's impossible, for you…to care. All this…time you've just…been doing these things because…someone had control over you. Because…someone…was playing the master. You…you never felt anything…for me…for anyone…just…nothing."

I kneel down and grab her shoulders. Staring into those vacant and lost eyes, I search for myself. I cannot see my own reflection. I do not remember what I look like.

"Do not say such things."

"…If you…if you do this…then it shows all anyone needed…to do was present a position of power to you. That…even without a contract, the brainwashing is…so deep it'll never go away."

"You do not know what you are saying."

Her skin is cold under my hands. I do not know the cause of this, because inside of this place, it is not cold. It is cooler than the outside, but not something to shiver over.

"Dezbe? Why are you cold?"

She starts to shudder, shake. But it is not a seizure, not anything medical. It is completely psychological. She stares into my eyes, shivering, with uncontrollable tears running down her scarred and beautiful face.

"I need…I need you to…do this for me."

"Do what? Dezbe, come here."

I pick her up and bring her to the bed. Wrapping her up in blankets, it seems my efforts go unnoticed. She continues to shiver, her eyes never leaving me.

"Kiss me, Charon. Like you used to. Kiss me, and if you ever loved me, you'd kill me right now."

"What?"

"…I can't live in the world you want…I can't…fight against you…because I love you so much…I can't…be happy, either way. Unless…you're beside me on my side, because I'm selfish like that. Because I can't let…this world suffer, for one person."

What scares me is not her request, but the tone of voice she uses. It is calm, calculated, as if she is thinking clearly. As if, she has thought about this, or…rather, accepts that if I do not kill her now, her defiance in the future will. Her rebellion against Andrew and everyone, will be the ultimate death. I know as well as she, that she will not quietly stand by my side as we go above ground and enforce laws and regulations. She will wait patiently, for an opportunity, and take it once she can. They will kill her, then. They will kill her, and she will die, with her efforts, failing.

"…I cannot do that, Dezbe. Do not ask me, to do such difficult things."

Quietly, Dezbe slides her hand from the blanket. She no longer feels cold, as her fingers grasp my own.

"Hold my hand, so we don't get separated."

My fingers close around hers, and wet tears fall on my hand. I look at her, and stroke her hair with my free hand. What caused this? Was it I? Was it the idea that Andrew portrayed? What?

"We will not be apart, I told you this."

"It's okay, Charon. It's…all okay."

"Dezbe?"

"I trust you, remember?"

I blink, and her grip tightens around my own.

"Don't…don't make me want to give up, Charon. Don't…I'm trying…don't."

Trying to analyze her, I stare into her eyes, but there is nothing. As I look at her, she moves closer to me. Her head, presses against the nook of my neck, and she weeps. Letting go of my hand, she wraps her arms around my shoulders, as I kneel in front of her.

"Calm down, it is alright…"

I try to comfort her, as I feel one of her hands sliding from my shoulders. Before I can stop her, her hands wrap around the barrel of my own shotgun that lies on the floor. Pulling away from her, I know that in this state of mind, Dezbe is irrational.

"Hand me the gun."

I tell her, outstretching my hand. She shakes her head, looking at it.

"I don't want to be here anymore. I want to go home. Make them take me home."

"Dezbe, hand me the gun. You cannot leave."

"Let me go home, and let me die fighting for my place. Let me die by your hand, or by fighting. I won't let them take me. I won't…be a prisoner again."

She has the gun, and in doing so, she has the power.

"I cannot unlock the doors. I will have to call them here."

"…I won't leave without you."

"Dezbe make your mind up. I will not go with you. My…my place is here. It always has been."

"Your place is beside me! That's where your place is! You promised to never leave me!"

In her shouts, she is distracted. I rush towards her, and tear the gun from her hands. Pulling the drum out, I hand her back the gun, as I place the drum up high on a ceiling beam far from her reach. Even if she climbed on the bed, she would not be able to reach it. I do not offer her sobs anymore comfort. Instead, I stand against the wall, my arms folded, and my eyes closed. As I did in Underworld, I block out all there is around me, and focus on nothing.


	38. I Was Made For Chasing Dreams

(Dez)

Staring at him I know I won't hurt him. I know, I won't do anything to myself, either. Still. How would you feel? How…how would you cope, with seeing the person you love most, falling deep into the snares of everything that he once hated? I realize now, how truly deep-set the brainwashing is. How, Charon will listen, and obey, to really anyone in higher position than anyone else. It all became clear, I guess. A theory I made up. Andrew is a better person, higher up one the scale of control. Charon, because of his past and obedience, will listen. Even if…this has never happened before, the circumstances are different. He's in his past, now. He's unreachable to me.

Maybe, it's because coming back here sparked something. The Charon I once knew, is not the Charon that stands before me. This is the Charon I had just met, in Underworld with the mind of a lost kid. That is the Charon, who stands before me. Not the one who loved me. Not the one, who I thought was so true and real, no. I don't know, if that Charon will ever be brought back. Not now, I don't think. Coming back here was a mistake. We could have lived happily, but then again, who am I kidding? Andrew said it himself. He was following us. From the creeper at the shack in the middle of nowhere, to Three Dog who probably doesn't have any real involvement, just the middle man, to the guy in Underworld after starting the Purifier. It all makes sense. That girl I ran into in the middle of the Wastes, who ran once she discovered my name, all of them…reporting back here. All of them, a pawn in the Lyons' great plan.

I can't let them, do what they want to do. I'll die, before I fight Charon and before I lose everything. Sure it sounds great, believe me I toyed with the idea, too. But it can never happen. It's been three-hundred years. If the world wanted to be fixed it would have fixed itself. It would have, I don't know, let the Brotherhood succeed in everything. But it didn't. It didn't and that's the way it's supposed to be. Don't ask me how I know this, I just do. I just, don't feel right, letting these kinds of people come into the Capital Wasteland, the country, and take it all for themselves. Charon told me, they killed people. They killed children, girls, and boys. How can people who can carelessly do that, be nice? Then again…I've done horrible things, too.

But it's not the same. My bad things, and theirs, are monumentally different. It won't work, I know it won't. This whole thing, was just cooked up so that they could get their prime candidate back. For all I know, they don't even want the shit-land that's up there, they just said all that to give Charon a reason to stay and not blow this place to holy hell. All I wanted, was to have my Charon back. I didn't want this. I didn't want to sit here, feeling this way, knowing that losing him is such a high possibility it might kill me. I just wanted, to have a kid, and have sex, and be happy with him like things were. Was that, after all I've done, too much to ask?

"Dezbe, I will ask again, please, talk to me."

If I listen to him, then…then what? I'll give in and he'll keep me here like a pet? No, I know better. People like the Lyons don't keep promises. Once they have Charon's trust, they'll kill me. They'll lie to him, tell him I did something worth dying over or that I killed myself. It'll work too. They've been watching the both of us, and they know me. My personality, everything. They know his, too. But…wait. Wait. They know him. They know him, as the Charon who they trained. In that mindset. Goddamnit Dezbe! You're a genius.

"I have to use the bathroom."

I tell Charon. Jumping up, I run to the bathroom and lock the door. Running the warm water, I splash it on my face, as I begin to make a plan that isn't so half-assed. Andrew said himself, they lost track of Charon and I for some time. I'm going to say, since no strange incidents or Three Dog reports came while we lived together for three years, that for the past eight, they have had no idea of what's been going on. Meaning, that they weren't there for it. They didn't see, that Charon completely transformed into the being as I remember him. That in those three years, Charon was more different and more independent of his own mind, than they'd ever imagine. The strings are still there, they've always been there even during that time, but for a while, they were cut. They were cut and hanged and nothing could have gotten him. His blackouts, they have no idea about them. That was just luck. Being pulled back here was nothing other than the guilt brought on with the realization of emotions. I have a small chance at this. A very small, pinhole chance, but if I can do it, if I can get Charon back on my side and get him to help us escape…then…happiness doesn't seem too far off.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I take a deep breath in. My eyes are red from crying, and my face is slightly poofed, but it's alright. There's no light in here, Charon won't see my face very well. Exhaling, I grip the edges of the sink, debating my master plan. If it works, in short we win. At least, for now. I win, and he wins. Later on will be planned as the night goes on. But, if it doesn't work…I can kiss this tight ass of mine goodbye and so long. It's a last-ditch effort, as most of my plans are, but I'm banking on some well-deserved good luck. After all this time, the universe needs to cut me a break. Mustering up my strength, I try to pretend. Pretend, that out there, is the Charon I knew and loved, waiting for me. Not, this person who just wears his body.

Opening the door, I lean against it. Charon stares at me, wondering what comes next. Yeah, me too.

"I'm sorry I flipped earlier."

I tell him, tossing my hair with an air of bitchiness. He raises an eyebrow at me, but shows no other emotion. In his eyes, I can see through to the real him. He's in there, just _begging_ to come out.

"Do you understand now, how unjustifiable it was?"

He asks me as I fold my arms over my chest. Smirking at him, I turn my head.

"I understand a lot of things, Charon."

"What?"

"You heard me. I've thought about it for some time. After all, I had five years of thinking and nothing more. Not even sex. Do you know how badly I've wanted it?"

I catch his gaze in the darkness. His eyes narrow, as I tread on dangerous waters. Pushing off the wall, I start to pace around the room slowly, adding drama to my words with actions.

"All those men, Charon. Each one, wanting to know me, talk to me…and touch me if nothing else. But, I said no to them. Each and every one. Closed my door and never opened it to them again."

"What are you saying?"

Looking him dead in the eyes, I put on a most serious of face. Of course, I pat myself mentally on the back, too. If you could just see the look upon his face. Casted in shadows, Charon looks positively prime evil.

"That I was stupid."

"Excuse me?"

"I mean, what was I waiting for back then, anyways? Obviously you've lost all common sense. If I had known then what I know now, like with all things, I would have picked one for my taking and left it at that. Never mind practicing celibacy. Or is it abstinence?"

I stand near the entrance door, supporting myself with my shoulders I lean back against the wall and push out the rest of my body. You know, years ago this stance was a lot easier to maintain. Maybe I'm just getting old, though.

"Are you saying, that you would have rather slept with those men, than waited for my return?"

"Charon I thought you were dead, remember? There was no inkling of hope of you ever returning to me. But then again, knowing who you've become, I wouldn't have hoped either way."

"You are just angry. You do not know what you are saying."

"No, Charon, I know perfectly well what I'm saying. What woman would want to come home to a man so easily manipulated as you?"

Charon advances towards me and I stand up straight. Using sexuality to get to him is just part one of my plan. Part two, well, that's in the works. I'm picking it up as I go.

"I am in full control of my self and my body. Do not assume that since I did not agree with your standpoint, that I am being manipulated."

"I'm not assuming anything, Charon. You're the one jumping to conclusions."

Pushing past him I stand in the middle of the room and light a cigarette.

"After all I mean, what say do I have in any of this? Even if I see it in an entirely different light."

"And what light may that be?"

Exhaling a plume of smoke, I stare at the metallic ceiling. It looks exactly like the ceilings in Vault 101 did, and all the other vaults known to man. And some unknown ones, too.

"Andrew said he kept you alive. That from the second you excelled, they planned this entire thing. You know, selling you to John, getting into the vault, surviving the war and ultimately coming here. Keeping tabs on us wasn't such a hard thing to do, and it was smart. But, to me, it just sounds like you're a tool."

"What?"

"You know, a wrench. Something they need to finish their 'master plan'. Without you, this plan wouldn't work since you and only you know the kinks in their training. The prototype before the final project. So, what happens when someone better comes along? You're discarded, that's what happens. For now you're of slight importance, but when they get bored, they'll cut the proverbial umbilical cord and say goodbye to Charon. It's in their plan, after all."

"How do you know this is their plan? You do not even know of the people you speak of."  
"I don't. I'm just gathering data and piecing together missing information by educated guesses."

We stare at one another as I smoke my cigarette. This is called a stalemate. Usually it happens when Charon has nothing to say in his defense and I can't think of anything witty enough to keep going. So, I improvise. Seems to be something I'm good at.

"…You know, Charon, we've done a lot together. Devoted ourselves to each other, and watched the world light up and die again. I said once, you'd always be my superhero, and I meant it. But, looking at you now, I don't think that's true anymore."

"You were young and foolish."

"But it never mattered what happened between the beginning and the end, only that in the end, we had each other. Am I wrong?"

"No."

"So what about this? In the end, we won't even be friends. Enemies by name, and I'll be your faithful prisoner in this stupid place. That is, if they don't kill me. So…was it all a lie?"

Charon moves, but I'm not really watching as I flick some ash away from my vault suit.

"Was what all a lie?"

"Our lives together, Charon."

He has no answer. But a long time ago, I promised no matter what I'd stand by him. That I'd be holding his hand, and keep him by my side somehow. I'm selfish, but that's one promise I've done almost everything to keep.

"Then I should have gone with those men. I should never, have felt regret over hurting you, if this is the man you've become."

"I have always been this man."

"No, you haven't. Actually I take that back. You're not a man to me anymore, Charon. You're just a stupid puppet. A real man…a man who loved me, would get me to safety. He would protect me from this place and their people, and make sure his lover, and their friends, were safe."

"That is exactly what I am doing if I cooperate. I will make sure no harm comes to anyone you wish to save."

"And what makes you think they'll listen?"

"I simply know."

"No, Charon. You'll tell them and they'll put it on some paper and get what they want from you. Then, when all is said and done, they'll kill you and forget about anyone else. You're not as important to them as you think. Maybe you are, actually, but not in the way you're wanting to believe."

"Stop it."

"No, because you need to hear things as they are."

"I know how things are."

"No, you don't Charon! You're so stupid!"

Not another word is said, as I feel the hard blow of Charon's fist connecting with my cheek. Losing balance, I fall to the ground, my cigarette rolling across the floor. For a minute, I can't register what happened. Then, I see the floor against my nose, and feel it touching my face. Where Charon hit me, starts to throb in pain. I don't move. I have to soak this up. This wasn't part of my plan. I hold back tears of pain, and anger. I can't lose my temper, like I have so many times before. For once, I have to be the damsel in distress. The wounded woman. I have to play coy and naïve. Remaining on the floor, I look up at Charon through strands of hair. He stares down at me, showing no emotion, no remorse.

"Do not make me do that again."

Who is he? Who is this person in front of me? The Charon I knew and loved, never raised a hand to me like this. Of course we fought, and we fought hard, but I always had to do something first. In the three years we lived together, no matter how I acted or how heated things became, Charon never laid a finger on me.

Slowly standing, I put a hand over my throbbing cheek. Charon stares me in the eyes, and I show him in mine, I won't back down.

"Any man, is better, than the excuse for one standing in front of me."

"Then why did you not take them?"

"Because I was hell-bent on believing the person I loved was worth my sacrifice. I was wrong. I should have fucked every single one of them, and then laughed in Zack's face when he told me you didn't die. I should have laughed so loud, miles away, you would have heard it."

"Whatever memories you have of us, cherish them. They are all that is left of the person I once was. Of the fool I became."

"Those memories aren't worth my time anymore, after knowing this is what you've become."

Picking up my cigarette, I stick it back in my mouth. The smoke in my lungs helps clear the fog in my head. With each subtle move I make, I can feel Charon's eyes burning into me. I haven't lost yet, though. I still have tricks up these olds sleeves of mine. Sitting on the bed, I cross my legs and glare up at him. He won't win. I won't let them take Charon from me. Only I can make Charon go away, and that's something I intend to keep.

"It's not like you satisfied me anyways."

I say to him, nonchalant. I make it sound like I've stopped caring.

"Are you referring to sex? Because if so, I remember you distinctly enjoying it."

"You have a lot to learn about women. Here, I'll teach you. Lesson one: we're really good at faking it."

"Those sounds do not come from lies."

To prove him wrong, I emit the same sounds as I stare right into his eyes. Truth be told he's right. I did enjoy it and he satisfied me to the point of no comparison. Letting him know that right now though isn't a god idea. Then my entire plan is shot to shit. Though, it's already gone from bad to worse. Stopping the sounds, I look at him. Oh, such a priceless face!

"See? Told you."

Then Charon does the opposite of what I thought he was going to do. Instead of giving a snide remark, or brushing it all off, he sits down. He takes the cigarette from my hand as he stares up at me from the floor, and in his eyes…the Charon I once knew shines through. He's silent for a bit, as he finishes the cigarette I started. Even though I want to look away, I can't. I can't help but stare at him.

"…Was I truly that blind, back then? Did I not see such obvious things?"

It's hard for me not to tell him the truth right now, but it's for his own good. Even if it hurts him, I have to keep up this charade.

"You were blind to a lot of things."

"I truly fell short."

"For the most part. I mean, what kind of man can't give his woman a proper fuck? Even more, what kind of man hits his woman the way you just hit me?"

His eyes glisten in the dark. Not with tears, but with emotion. He doesn't show any on his face, but hey, the eyes have to be used for something other than seeing.

"Perhaps, you are right. In the end, I was nothing more than a tool for my facility to use. Then, if that is so, I have no choice but to work with them."

"Why say that?"

"Because if what you say is true, then I am of no purpose to anyone but them."

"It doesn't have to be that way. You can change it, just like you changed yourself from the start."

Charon looks up at me, his eyes pleading.

"How?"

Getting off of the bed, I kneel on the floor with him. I don't touch him, but I look at him. This time, I show him compassion.

"By trusting me, as I trust you."

"Yet I hurt you."

"We all make mistakes."

For a minute it seems like he's really going to listen. Then without warning he stands up, and the air around him changes.

"No. No I have a purpose here. It is your choice to cherish the memoires we made or not. In the end, it is your choice to stay by my side, or go against me. I have no hold on it."

"God_damnit_ Charon!"

I throw my lighter at him, losing the cool I've tried so hard to keep. It bounces off of his back, and clanks to the floor loudly.

"You're so _stupid_! For you to even _think_ for one second _they're_ the good guys than it's true! All we've ever done together was for _nothing_! All the fights and the support I put up with when you were PMSing, all the stupid little things you needed me by your side to do, _everything_ was for _nothing_!"

Charon turns to see my face, tear-stained and angry.

"Perhaps then it was. Is that what you want to hear? I can't stand to listen to your stupid temper tantrums anymore! I've listened to them almost ten years! How can you expect me to continue to do it again and more?"

"Because you _loved me_! And that's what people do! They love each other with their faults and all!"

"What do you know about love?"

Charon…

"I know so much more than you do!"

"How can a girl raised in a vault, who was willingly the toy used by a boy know anything of human emotions?"

"I could ask you the same thing! You don't know _anything_ about being a human! You never felt anything did you? All you did was pretend to feel and go through the motions of it all!"

"I didn't do any such thing!"

"I should have fucked those men! I should have left you and never regretted anything!"

Reaching, Charon grabs my shoulders and picks me off the ground. He pins me against the wall, his strength and grip overpowering. Holding me at eye level with him, I can feel my toes begging to touch the ground.

"You were not theirs to touch!"

"Says who? Living dead zombie here? Fuck you!"

"You are not for men to touch! You are not for them!"

"Then who am I for, Charon? It's what's going to happen if you keep me here! They're going to do all they want to me and more! They're going to kill me!"

"They won't touch you!"

"Why? What are you going to do about it?"

He pushes me against the wall harder. It hurts, but I bear with it. I bear with it, because the person I'm screaming at, is the person I remember him to be.

"I'll kill them!"

Realization overcomes him. Charon lets me go and I fall to the floor at the sudden drop. Backing away slowly, Charon stares at me on the ground.

"No man…no man is allowed…to even look at you with desire…"

He says through gritted teeth as his hands open and close. Picking myself up, I stay on the ground but press my back against the wall. Charon stands like a statue, leaning over me, leering at me.

"If you won't let them look at me, why are you going to let them keep me here? Why are you going to let them take you away? If you leave me here, alone, you know what will happen. They'll do more than just look."

"No one is allowed…to hear you call their names, like you've called mine…"

"Then don't let them! Don't let them come near me!"

"They have watched me. They know…everything about me and you. There is no other way."

"They haven't seen you when I come in harms way. They haven't seen you, alone with me at night. They didn't see the Charon, who kept me close, who kissed me, who made me feel safe. They didn't see, the rage that I saw, when another man would come within feet of me. They don't know everything."

"They know you are my weak link."  
I stand up, sort of preparing myself for a physical fight. Don't ask me why. Right now, Charon's very volatile and unpredictable. He can be turned on and off like a light switch. I have to be careful of what I say, if I want the Charon I'm speaking to, to stay here with me. This is the real Charon, not the one they programmed.

"Don't let me be that, then. Don't let them take me away and use me against you."

"If they take you from me…they…they can hurt me…"

"Don't let them know that!"

"They already do, if they've seen us interact. If they've been watching."

"…But they also know, that pissing you off would be the end of them all. Taking me, is the last thing on their list, Charon. Trust me."

He looks away from me, and at the floor. It's almost like the Charon he is and the Charon they made him to be are fighting. I can see in the dark, the mixture of emotions now showing on his face. I can tell he's struggling, and so I reach out. I let my fingers graze his bare arm, and he looks at me.

"Don't let us get separated, Charon. You know they'll do more than just kill me, if you work with them. I won't be safe here."

"I wanted a world where you and I would be safe. The world you always chased, with the grass and trees. I've always wanted, to show you life before the war, and the fields of it all. The way the summer air felt. I wanted, to dream that dream with you. I wanted someone to make this world a place, worthy of you, and worthy of a family with you."

Stepping closer, I slowly slide my hand in his. He still can't look me in the eyes, but at least, for now, I have him.

"It is, Charon. I don't need grass or trees, or anything like that. A shack is fine, so long as everyone I love is there with me. I wouldn't want to have a family, in a world where world war is present. I want to raise one here, in the Capital Wasteland, where we're too disorganized to think of anyone but ourselves. This world, with you and Zack and Gob, is perfect."

"…I thought, perhaps if I worked with them, they would create the world for you, and you would love me as you once did. You would forgive me for leaving, and look at me that way again. That I would finally be worth your care and love."

Getting off topic in my mind, I wonder how Charon came to the conclusion that they would somehow hold the key to making the place better. It's not something that you pull out of your ass like 'Hey, gonna make some grass and trees here, kay?'. I mean, making the water pure was hard enough as it was, trust me I know.

"Charon, why do you think they have this power? That they can make this place any better?"

"…This is a vault. Built by Vault-Tec. Every vault, has a G.E.C.K."

Oh my lord the ghoul is right. Taking my hand away from his I smack myself in the face. Of course! G.E.C.K! How could I not have realized that? Well to be honest there were bigger things on my mind than the world, you know? Even now Charon isn't to where he was, and the pained look on his face shows me he's still very vulnerable. But knowing the G.E.C.K is somewhere here, inside this very place…makes me see things in a whole new light.


	39. Even if Saving You Sends Me to Heaven

(Charon)

All I wanted was a brighter future. A place, clean and safe, for Dezbe, and the people closest to her. I wanted to create something beautiful. All I have seen in the past three centuries, is simply death and chaos. For once, I wanted to see something pure. Something godly, angelical. Something, not of this world. I have seen men fall, seen the tallest buildings crumble to nothing more than mere dust, watched the moon extinguish the sun, and rivers flow uphill. And yet, I have never, seen the world as beautiful as it once was. In my desire, to help those around me, to make a home befitting for Dezbe, I failed to see the ugliest thing of them all. I failed to see, the strings that control me.

With my head in Dezbe's lap, I lie on the floor motionless. These four walls, feel as if they're closing in on me. Dez's hand strokes my head, and I try hard to calm my mind. It does no good. I have no place in heaven. I have no home to return to, I have no family. Here in this world, I serve no purpose. With no employer, no contract, and the hate of the woman I love, I don't think there's anywhere left to go. I don't think, there's much of anything in this life for me. At least I can simply say I tried. That my intentions here were good. That all I wanted, all I ever wanted, was to make Dez happy. There's hardly anything stopping me right now, from closing my eyes and allowing the eternal sleep to overcome me. Nothing that I can feel, to live for anymore.

Slowly, Dez's touch softens. If I sleep here…what will become of her? I didn't think of that. I didn't think of the consequences of even stepping into this place. Again I was selfish and blind. Simply wanting to dig up the remains of my past, I put Dez in danger. I know these men, and although they speak eloquently and with plans, I know…they are not men of word. I didn't want to admit it earlier, but they will kill her. They will kill me. But my bones, feel so tired and sore. I'm not the agile young man I once was anymore. I'm not something of a fighter. An old war veteran, a washed up mercenary, is all I can think to describe myself as. Even still, I can't leave her here.

Turning my head, I look into her sleepy eyes. They're dark, brown pools of a bottomless pit of thoughts. Lines on her face tell me of the stresses she's faced. The scars tell everyone of battles. I wonder, if I'll ever see that smile again? If there'll be a day, when she'll look at me once more with love, with pleasure, want, and desire. I have to get her out of here. I have, to save her this one last time. My old bones, should have enough kick in them, to get her to safety. I just want her to tell me, that I too, am worth saving.

"Dezbe?"

I say her name softly, and she looks at me.

"Yeah?"

I want her to say my name like she once did, so many years ago.

"…It was never, for nothing. What we did together, the memories. I cherish them. I'm sorry, for everything I did up until now."

"Charon? Are you alright?"

Standing up, I fight the voices and thoughts that sway me to listen to Andrew. That remind me of the G.E.C.K and fill my mind with the images of a perfect world. This world isn't perfect. Far from it, it is desolate, horrible, and filled with violence. Yet, within this world, I failed to see the beauty. Failed to see that against unfathomable odds, there was Dezbe. Her love for me, when there are so many men far better than I, her loyalty, trust, perseverance…is more beautiful, than even the most perfect of worlds. Looking down at her, I give her my hand. Nervously, she takes it and I pull her to her feet.

"…If I admit I was wrong, if I admit…that my actions and judgments were misplaced…will you smile?"

Staring up at me, I look at her. It's almost as if, I'm seeing her for the first time. My mind becomes clear, and I see her, only her. I don't hear noises, thoughts, ideas, nothing. I stare, her oval face and almond eyes, the three diagonal scars across freckled cheeks and a button nose, I look at every detail. Her rounded chin, and plump lips. Even in her age, youth has been good to her. Even with her scars, time did well. Then, against all logic, against it all, Dezbe smiles at me. Her straight teeth shine, her lips part, smile lines appear on the sides of her nose. It breaks my heart.

She presses her face into my chest. I wanted to stare at her a bit longer, but I understand. Understand how much me siding with her meant, how much pain she had endured, and how for a time she wanted to rest within my arms. I haven't been myself lately. Haven't felt at ease, worthy, or anything good with the person I had become. I think, the person I am, want to be, is happy now, to have her here. To have her forgive me so easily, and return to my side without second thought or question. Feeling her body in the crooks of my arms, I can't help but feel alive inside.

"Don't let them take me."

She says as she sighs, exhaustion taking over. Without saying anything, I lead her to the bed. Laying down beside her, I wrap her in my arms once more, remembering how much she loved this moment in the past.

"I won't let them come near you. No one is allowed to touch you."

"Except you, right?"

"Exactly."

In the years we lived together, I suppose I developed an uncanny and unhealthy possession of Dezbe. Jealousy of other men sprang up not from insecurities, but from value. Only ever having my armor and my gun, Dezbe came to be of high value to me. Her love and loyalty, was a gift, and I didn't want anyone else to take that from me. Didn't want anyone, to feel the way she made me feel, and didn't want her emotions spent on anyone else. Although we never talked of it, I could feel that when she looked at me, she admired the possessiveness I developed.

"What are we going to do?"

She asks me airily and tired. Rubbing her hair with my hand, I stare at the wall behind her. They wanted me back here. Planned and watched me through generations of people and bloodlines. Kept tabs on me, to make sure one day, I would come back. Tomorrow, they're going to pray, that I never returned. They're going to beg for mercy, and remember the day, their forefathers brought me here. This is my home, this facility, and I have returned to it, just as everyone does in their lives. Everyone, always returns to home, eventually.

"Don't worry about that now."

No one leaves this place alive. I will make sure of that. I will make sure, tomorrow, they will hear the children. They will feel those chills of fear, and they will know what they have created. My old and tired body, has to do this one last thing. The pain of revenge, will feel so sweet. I left this place a monster, and I returned a man. Men…do not take kindly, when lies and threats are placed. Especially when, those lies and threats, include subtly, the woman they are in love with.

Sleep doesn't come easy, and when I fall to it, it doesn't last. Before I can begin to imagine what dream I'm going to have, a loud voice over the intercom wakes us both.

"We are sending down escorts. I will see you both in my office, to discuss the matters at hand."

Andrew's voice says to us, as Dez looks at it angrily. She was always a difficult thing to wake, and doesn't take kindly to things that rouse her.

"What's he saying?"

She asks yawning. Sitting up, I know that I didn't get a good rest. It won't hinder my progress any. Staring at her, as she yawns, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, I wish for another moment. One more moment, to look at her, to stare into her eyes, to tell her that in the end things will be just and right. Yet, filling her head with thoughts of what won't happen is of no use to anyone. I didn't want, to ever lay our love on the floor. I never meant, for any of this to happen. I didn't mean it. I promise you that.

My actions of the past…they can't be undone. But, perhaps they can be atoned for. I am but one man, machine. I can do little to nothing about myself, but I can make t up to her. One man, cannot stand against an army of this power. It is not the numbers that frighten me, it is the knowledge their trained men have. Although no one has matched my performance, I am no match against a hoard of them. Andrew will not take mercy on me, despite my importance to him. I was blindfolded for such a long time, but now I understand. I believe, that love doesn't necessarily mean being forever beside that person, but also sacrificing the most difficult things for them. Her safety, her happiness, is above my own and all else. As much as I want to break free from this place with her, I know that those are slim chances.

"He said he is sending escorts to bring us to his office."

I tell her as I stand up. It hurts me now, to look at her. Placing my shotgun on my back, I hear her yawn again. If she is safe, then no matter what else happens, I am happy.

"So…what are we gonna do?"

Like a child, she pulls on my armor. She's asking a question I simply can't answer. Looking behind me, and down at her, I fight back the primitive urge to fight my way out of here, with her close in hand.

"Follow my lead, say nothing. Do not leave my side. No matter what."

She puts on a childish yet serious expression, and looks me in the eyes. Nodding sternly, I know that she trusts me. In my silence, Dezbe smiles at me. It brings tears to my eyes. Blinking them away, I know our time together is limited. I know, soon they will be here to bring us to Andrew Lyons. Because of her, I was able to find myself, deep inside my own abused and twisted mind. Even when I didn't have control, I have always protected her. It's been my objective since her hands wrapped around my contract so many years ago in Underworld. Now, even if it kills me, I'll fulfill my duties. Even if this was all planned by mere men, our meeting was simple chance. Our emotions for one another, simple happenings. There are some things, even the most powerful men, cannot control.

Pressing her face against my chest, Dezbe sighs heavily. I wrap my arms around her. She doesn't know, that this will be the last time I hold her so close. I have to take advantage, of this dwindling moment.

"I need you to know something, Dezbe."

"Yeah?"

She has no idea, how difficult this is for me. How hard it is, to deny emotions, whilst telling her of them.

"I will always, keep you safe. I will always be with you, even if you cannot see me. I have always loved you, even when you believed yourself to be a simple job. There wasn't a day, in the past five years, where I did not think of you, or miss your presence. No matter what happens, Dezbe, don't ever think, I never cared."

She looks up at me, more confused than anything. The perfect life I want her to have, cannot be led with me. Not when I am watched, hunted, tracked like a dog. It is better she move on, better that she create a life with people who will not get her into such trouble. People, who are not so easily manipulated as I am. Before she can say anything to me, the door opens and we part.

"Stay close."

I whisper as two men appear. As we walk towards them, and the blinding light of the outside area, I feel as if I am walking to my death. As if I am dreaming. Perhaps, if I had heard her music, and had it fresh in my mind, this would not be so difficult. A common thing, to bring me such comfort at this time. The men I walk towards, part between them and walk on either side of me, as Dezbe follows behind.

I can finally, see the truth of all of this. Hearing her soft footsteps steadily behind my own, I know I am not alone. I have, never been alone. Since meeting her, she has been with me in mind and memory. She has always offered comfort, and defiance when defiance was just. The ways of her workings, the ways she has forced herself into my mind and heart, are not going unnoticed. Reaching behind me, I clasp her hand in mine. I feel her eyes burning curious holes into the back of my head. I just want to remember, what it's like, to feel her skin against mine. I want to savior her touch, for one last time.

We get closer to Andrew's office, and below me I hear the beginnings of the field training. This place, this prison, their gates won't open for me anymore. I had a taste of freedom, of normalcy, and that's more than anyone here can hope for. Glancing down, I take pity on the men who begin their rigorous training. They won't be saved, won't ever feel the softness of a woman's skin, or the feel of someone else's lips against theirs. For that, I feel as if I am the villain. Because I have felt these things.

We come to a square section, with vault doors blocking us from the other side. The men that walk alongside us punch in a key-code and the door opens. Before me, Andrew sits behind a large steel desk. A giant leather chair surrounds his backside, as if it reinforces his importance.

"That's far enough. Return to your duties and allow our guests to enter alone."

He has a lot of trust to allow both Dezbe and myself in. Especially since I am armed. I don't notice there are armed guards against the wall behind me, until I enter, and the door seals shut.

"Please, take a seat."

Andrew waves his hand in front of him, motioning towards the two chairs across from his desk. Still holding Dez's hand, I lead her to the chairs. We sit down, and just as I did the day before, I wrap my foot around the leg of hers. The guards may be armed, but they aren't large in numbers. Four of them, at the most. But I know this isn't where my attention needs to be. Looking at Andrew in the eyes, I wait for him to begin the talk.

"Have you thought about our proposition, Charon?"

He addresses me by name, when his predecessors only addressed me by number.

"Yes."

He lights a cigar, and offers me a cigarette. I take it, and feel Dez's eyes watching me with the upmost concern. I try not to let it phase me.

"And have you decided?"

"I have no choice. In order for my safety and survival, I must work with you."

"Hm. Wise choice, Charon. You seem to remember this place very well."

"Yet I will only work, on one condition."

Andrew looks at me as if I've just punched him in the gut. I have learned how to play games in my time spent with Dezbe.

"Charon you have no say. Either you work with us, or you don't. But humor me, what is this condition?"

"I am not denying my help. But if you want me to comply, you will listen to what I have to say. You forefathers trained me, and you should know better than any other man here aside from myself, methods of interrogation will not work on me. You need my compliance, to gain my information."

He narrows his eyes, puffing on his cigar.

"Go on…"

"I will work with you, on the condition that Dezbe is able to return to the Capital Wasteland unharmed and unbothered. That she can lead a life, without the spies you have set upon me. I will stay, and help, if she is free to go."

"Impossible! We've watched you, know what it is that _both_ of you are capable of. What's to stop her from returning to fetch you? That would put all my plans, hard work, and men at high risk."

I catch a look from Dezbe. Her face, is full of fear and anguish. I have to look away.

"My life. If she returns, alone or with aid, I will not object to the execution that awaits disobedient men."

"You're a hostile soldier, Charon. With your exposure to life outside, how am I sure that you won't double cross us yourself?"

"Because your ancestors trained me. I may not obey on command, but I follow through with my words."

Andrew toys with the cigar between his fingers. He stares at it intently, thinking over my request. He must feel this is all too easy. That somewhere hidden in my words there's a catch. There isn't. I cannot fight these men alone, and even with the help of Dezbe it is still impossible. But I can spare her a life of imprisonment.

"And all you want, in turn for cooperation, is her freedom?"

"Yes."

He sighs, and looks at me.

"You're a valuable asset to us, Charon. You've wittingly used this knowledge to your advantage. I know very well our methods won't work, so my joint cooperation is all I have to convince you to stay. What you ask has risks, but nonetheless, simple. Very well. My men will escort her to the vault entrance."

"No. I will accompany your men as well."

"Wise choice, Charon. But know, if you try to escape, my men will kill _both_ of you. Understood?"

"Yes."

"Then go, and return here when she is free."

I stand, and Dezbe stands with me. Her eyes are brimming with tears, as the men who guard Andrew open the door, and lead us out.

"…Why did you do this?"

She asks softly as we exit his office. I grab her hand, and in my own, I feel it limp, and sad.

"There was no other choice. I thought it over all night."

"I would have stayed here with you."

I can't look at her, so I look ahead as we follow the armed guards.

"That isn't a life you want to lead. You're right. They will kill us in the end. It's best, to save at least you."

"It doesn't matter as long as we're together!"

I turn to look at her, as I feel her hand fall from mine. She cries silently, as she stares at me. Haven't I done this enough? Haven't I made this person hurt enough, for one lifetime? She deserves more than this. More, than someone like me can offer her. I love her, more than any man can love a woman, and that means letting her be free. Like a wild bird, Dezbe won't be happy caged inside here. She won't be free. And more importantly, she will be in constant danger.

"Don't make this more difficult than it has to be. Come on."

To my surprise, she listens. Sobbing, Dezbe follows me and the guards as we make our way to the entrance.

"I don't care if the world dies, if we die in the end…I just wanted to be with you."

"Don't say such stupid things. You know that outside there is a life for you, and people who care."

"Not as much as I care about you."

"Dezbe, don't make this sour."

"Because I'll really never see you again, right?"

"…That's what it seems like. This is my home. As treacherous and demonic as it may be, it is still my home. This, is the only place, where I am of use to anything and anyone. Outside, if we both were to leave, there would only be more pain, watching, and hunting. Understand it's better this way."

We come to the vault doors, and the guards look at us. One of them goes over to the keypad and begins to punch in the code to release the seal, and open it to the outside world. I look down at Dezbe, at the shimmering tears on her cheeks, at the pain I'll cause her for the last time. This will be our last moment together.

"Come here."

I say, opening my arms. Weeping, she steps into them. I hold her, kissing the top of her head, losing my composure. Tears fill within my eyes, and I want to show how much I care, but I am hindered by the company around us.

"I have to stay here, you go, be free."

"I want to stay with you."

She sobs, her small fists lightly hitting my chest. It's been years, since Dez and I have seen each other. She's lost weight, but she's still beautiful.

"We'll always have the Capital Wasteland, Dezbe. There will always be Megaton and Tenpenny Tower. There isn't a place out there, where we didn't make a memory."

"…I know…"

I know, that if I ever escape from here, she will be waiting. I know, since I can't have her, no one ever will. No one, will come close to having her. She's let me know, time and time again, I am the only one for her. Reaching around my neck, I break the small chain that holds my pre-war dogtags. Stepping back from her, I drop them into open hands. Reaching around, I grab my gun. The guards instantly point their weapons at us, but I pay them no mind.

"You cannot get home, without a weapon."

I tell her, as I place the gun in her hands.  
"I have no use for it anymore."

She accepts the parting gifts. A familiar hissing noise followed by gears grinding together tells me that the door is opening, and our time is coming to an end.

"…Tell Zack and Gob, I will think of them. That this was for the best."

"Let me stay…"

Dezbe clings my gun and necklace close to her. I shake my head, as a guard clears his throat in impatience.

"No, Dezbe. You have to go now."

I leave no room for argument, as I bend down and press my lips against hers. It's a passionate, tearful kiss, filled with emotions and forlorn desires. The world around, melts and dissipates. Nothing matters to me, as I kiss her for the last time.

"Go."

I say, pulling away from her. She's reluctant to leave, not wanting to abandon all hope and move on. Pushing her towards the door, she gives little resistance. A guard grabs the back of my arm, preventing me from possibly leaving with her.

"I can't go any further."

I tell her as she stands where the door will close. Her feet are firmly placed on the track of the gear, and the guard begins to press the keys to close the keypad.

"…I love you."

She tells me, strong, as if there's more meaning to that than I can understand. I want to embrace her once more, and without thinking I try to. Another guard grabs my arm, and two of them hold me in place. I give them no fight.

"Understand I did this, because I love you as well."

I did the right thing. I did the right thing, even though it is so goddamned painful. Even if it hurts, to the point where when the door closes and Dezbe steps back, I fall to my knees. The right thing, cripples me, and brings one of the strongest mercenaries this world has ever known, to nothing more than a pile of flesh and bones. I set her free, but I must stay. I must stay and yet, I know there would be no other way. The guards try to pull me to my feet, shocked at the display of emotion one of their own has given. I hardly notice them, as I stare at the floor.

I will never again, feel the cool mist of the air after a hot rain. I won't ever wake, to see a sunrise with Dez curled against me. Our naked bodes together, won't ever feel the comfort of a mattress. My words will never reach her, and tales of ancient stars and planets won't ever be heard by her. Truly, did I do the right thing? The motions of the guards around me, their struggles to get me to my feet, enrages me.

"Get off!"

I say, throwing three of them away. They watch me, their weapons drawn, as I rise to my feet.

"I no longer need you to watch me. I have no weapon, and no motive to leave. I can escort myself back to Andrew."

"Our orders are to bring you back to him."

I stare at them, knowing…a part of me, is still very much like them. Even if I don't want to admit it, I know it's the truth.


	40. I'll Take You Over, If You Let Me

(Dez)

It isn't easy to do this. It's not easy to stand and stare at the steel door, and not want to break it down. It wasn't easy to say goodbye, either. Why does it have to be this way? Hasn't Charon done enough suffering for his lifetime? Hasn't he done enough, for those people inside? Why do I get to go home, and he has to stay? What happened…to happily ever after?

Looking down at his gun and his necklace, I suppose those endings really do only happen in fiction. In books where the hero is someone handsome named Prince and the woman is some damsel in pitiful distress. Just once, though, I wish it was true. I wish that Charon and I were the exception to the fine lines that blur reality and fantasy. That at the end of everything, the two of us would have a happily ever after. I guess, it doesn't end that way, though.

If I hack the door again, and go back inside, they'll kill him. This time, there really is nothing I can do. But at least, they were nice enough to let us say goodbye. Maybe, though, in that they were cruel. Sometimes, goodbyes make the pain of parting even worse. Seeing Charon with tears in his eyes…I wanted to scream. I wanted to kill the men in there, innocent and guilty. Strapping his gun to my back, I let out a deep sigh, as I turn around to climb up the stairs.

In my life, what hasn't killed me, really has made me stronger. Thinking back to the person I was when I first came here…that person, although strong, wasn't anything compared to the person I am now. She never knew the pain, of a loved one being torn away. She didn't know what it was like, to watch a setting sun alone. Only the lonely, the ones who have hurt, can understand the pain I've been though. Only the lonely, know why I cry, and know why this pain I feel inside is there.

Walking away from this, away from the Citadel Ruins, from Charon, it isn't easy. Yet, it isn't as hard as I imagined it to be. All the things in my life, have hardened me. There's no doubt in my mind, that one day I'll wake up cold, alone, old and cynical. It'll happen, I know that much, if it hasn't already. I want to go back to Megaton. I want to tell Gob and Zack of this, and somehow…somehow get Charon back. I know there's no real way to do it. I know, that they'd kill him before they let me back in, but maybe…maybe…

Turning around, I realize something I should have seen from the very beginning. From the moment that I met Charon, this stupid, small, minute thing should have been present. It just hit me now, though. Slapped me right in the face. I guess that's how it's always been with me, though. Unless it smacks me in the face, I hardly realize the obvious. Charon has been protecting me, this entire time, and when the hell have I done it for him? When have I stepped up to the plate, and let him know he can lean on me, too? Hardly ever. When he's needed me, I've always done it half-assed or not at all. Charon needs me. He needs me more than anything and fuck if I give a damn about myself. I'd rather die, than turn my back on him again. I've done that enough.

Running back down into the lower levels of the Citadel Ruins, fresh tears spring into my eyes. My heart beats with excitement, with nerves, with the thought of seeing him again, and maybe even saving him. Hacking the terminal isn't a difficult thing to do. The passwords weren't changed, and I have a near-perfect memory when it comes to technology. I know, that Charon said he'd accept the execution if I came back. I know, they'll kill him. But it's better. It's better, because they'll kill me, too. And I would rather be dead, than live this life alone. I would rather this world burn and die and be taken over, than fight for it, without Charon fighting beside me. …By doing this, I know very well those I care about will be sacrificed. But those people, the ghouls, Gob, Zack, everyone…knows how deep the love Charon and I have is. Somehow, I know they'll understand.

I stand at the gear door, as it hisses and opens for me. It hasn't been a full half hour, since I said goodbye to Charon. I don't care. I don't. If this is how my life ends, then so be it. I can't live my life, if I can't live it for him. If I can't have him by my side, as he's always been, then I want no part in this world that everyone loves so damn much. I love Charon, more than I've ever loved anyone before and even after. I don't give two shits, how selfish and insane this is. It's love. It doesn't have to make and goddamned sense or be selfless.

As the gear door takes its place on its side, I cock Charon's shotgun as I slip his necklace into the pocket of my vault suit. He'd be in Andrew's office, I'm sure. I'm also sure, that there'll be guards. It doesn't sway me, though, and I continue on inside as if I'm queen of this stupid place. Stealth doesn't matter to me, as I bang my feet against the steel catwalks. This is what they wanted, right? They wanted Charon, and I brought him here. But I'm not giving him up without a fight. These people, these monsters, can't just take the one thing I love, and think I'm going to hand it over easily.

Surprisingly, I find that between the suspended walkways and the cubicle-like rooms, I can't figure which one is Andrew's office. Or even really, where Charon is. Below me, I see young men training and an echoing voice coaching them. Stopping to look over, I realize that I won't find Charon without first causing a scene. And you know what? I do just that.

Banging his shotgun against the steel, I let my loud and deep voice echo and bellow through the entire vault.

"Charon! Charon come out here! Andrew! Where the _fuck_ are you?"

The clanking of steel against steel is near deafening. The men and coach below look up, confused and awestruck at the woman being quite a disturbance.

"Andrew! Come out and face me!"

To my left a door opens, and I stop clanking the gun. Putting both hands on it, I place my finger on the trigger as I pump it. The guards that let me to the entrance with Charon stand, pistols raised.

"You know better than me, that those guns won't do shit on this one. Tell me _now_ where Charon is."

Silent, the guards stare at me. I feel a rush of adrenaline, as I see everyone from below gawking up at me from the corner of my eye. This is exactly the scene I wanted. Taking another step, the guards get closer.

"One more move and I swear to fucking god I will blow your heads off!"

To prove my point, I fire at a suspension wire above them. The recoil makes me lose my balance, but it's effective. Bullets rip through the suspension wire, causing it to rip, and the platform to buckle. The fall won't kill me. It'll hurt, break my leg, but I won't go down without Charon. The guards lose their balance for a minute, just like me, but regain their composure.

"Stop her!"

Someone yells from somewhere. I cock the gun back again, and aim it at another wire as people begin appearing from either side of the walkway.

"Touch me and I'll take this out with all of you on it!"

Frantically, I look back and forth, making sure they know my threat loud and clear. I won't hesitate, and somehow they know this. Inside I'm shaking, scared, nervous, but I don't let them know this. One of Andrew's men runs back into the cubicle room they appeared from, and I watch with careful eyes and an even more careful aim.

After a few long moments of silence and uneventful standing, the guard that ran away reappears with both Charon and Andrew. Both of them, shocked at seeing me.

"What are you doing here?"

Andrew barks as he steps onto the lopsided platform.

"You're not taking him from me. Not without a fight."

"You heard the deal, you were not to return."

With no room left to argue, Andrew pulls out a pistol and aims it at Charon's head, who really is in shock at the entire situation. This…well, this doesn't sit light with me and I do exactly what I threatened to do. I pull the trigger on Charon's shotgun before Andrew can pull his, and the wire holding up the catwalk snaps. It's a loud twang noise, and it echoes through everyone's ears.

The steel buckles beneath my feet, and for a few minutes everything is still and quiet. Then, the fun starts. The platform drops from beneath our feet, and only the quickest movers are able to grab hold of the rails before falling. As I wrap my hand around it, I feel the pressure of my own weight bearing down on a single arm. A handful of guards fall, with a few clinging like myself. The platform split in the middle, leaving both left and right sides dangling by threads. Charon and Andrew are among the few still holding on.

"You bitch! I'll kill you for this!"

"If the fall doesn't first, asshole!"

I say, struggling to hold both myself and the gun. Below, panic ensues. Perfect. With partially trained men in disarray, trainers and supervisors frenzied, the entire place will soon be in chaos. My victory is short-lived, though, because soon I feel myself shudder and shake. I have to get my feet up. I can't support my own weight. I can't lift myself up, but I can't let go of my weapon. Looking across, I see Charon and Andrew are on one side, and I'm stuck on the other. My eyes meet Charon's, as he hangs by his hands. His feet slid to where the platform split, and we're a bit more than an arm's reach away. Giving him a fearful look, I stretch his gun to him.

"_Take it!"_

I say, shaking it. Charon stares into my eyes, hesitant.

"Damnit Charon this isn't the time for moral dilemmas! Take the fucking gun!"

Not waiting for a response, I throw the gun to him. I don't look to see if he catches it, instead I take my newly free hand and wrap it around the rail. Weakened slightly by my own weight supported by one arm, it takes me a bit to lift myself. When I'm able to get myself up enough to place my foot on a steel support rail, vertical to the hand rail, I look back at Charon.

He caught his gun. He caught it, and I see the change in his eyes. Fear, hope, and courage well up inside, as I see his blue eyes shine. They meet mine, and I know, this is exactly what he needed.


	41. License to Kill

(Charon)

I hang by my own hand, above sudden death. My gun clasped tightly in my fingers, I stare at Dezbe as she struggles to balance and support herself. She's in danger, and the man at fault clings with fear above my head. He put her in danger. Him, his plans, his deal…put her in this position. When her eyes meet mine, when I see the fear hidden behind the unfaltering courage, I lose all sense of control. Lose sight on the big picture, and focus all, on the revenge I've waited three-hundred years to extract.

With strength that I believed to have left me for good, I pull my body up. My mind is set on one thing, and one thing only: Andrew. Fear rises in his eyes, as I half crawl, half climb my way up the hanging platform. With my gun strap around my arm, both hands are free. Slowly, I get closer.

"Charon! Stop right there!"

His words, his pleas, fall on deaf ears. Panicked, he begins to kick his feet, hoping it'll slow me. I see his gaze shift from me, and look across at Dezbe.  
"Stop him! Stop him! I'll let you both go! Stop him _please_!"

His professional air disappears around him. The saints that protected him before, cling for their lives above him, unhearing and uncaring of his situation. From below, trainers rush to find weaponry. It'll be in vain. Hearing Andrew's pleas to Dezbe enrages me more. He has no right to speak to her. He has no room to beg her for mercy. To ask her, for ultimate forgiveness. My body feels as it did when I was still human, with strength comparable to none, endurance unrelenting. My feel my body, transforming from the inside out. My hands, strong and grasping, my legs, powerful as they find small footings. I crawl towards him, like a demon from hell. I was never, one for analogies, but I must seem like something horrid to Andrew as I grow closer.

"I'll give you anything! Anything! Just call him off!"

"I am _not_ a toy to be called off! You have no _right_ to speak to her!"

I yell as I grab his ankle as he kicks and thrashes. Fear spreads, as I pull at him, as my strength overpowers his.

"Charon! Charon stop! Both of you can go!"

"You wanted me home. You wanted me here."

With a forceful tug, Andrew's hands slip from the rail. His weight is too much for me to hold at such a vertical angle. He thrashes too much, for me to hold him long.

"Do you hear them now? Do you hear the cries of all the children and men you killed? _Can you hear the children weep?_"

I look down at the crowd of men, almost complete in their training, but still able to be saved.

"Charon! Wait! You don't know what you're doing! There's…there's someone here! Yes!"

His words interest me, but I don't care for them.

"Let those you turned into slaves pick your fate!"

I say before letting go. He falls, screaming, forty feet or so down into the crowd. His body cracks but doesn't break, as he hits the steel floor. Curious, the men look up at me, and I down at them. My mind…goes blank. Once again, there is pain. There is revenge. I don't feel fulfilled, and I won't, until this entire place is destroyed. Looking over, I see Dezbe still in dire need of help. I watch her struggle to climb up for a moment, before regaining my composure.

Pulling myself up, the guards that just moments before protected Andrew allow me to move past them. As I reach a suspended platform, I grab the base of it, and pull myself up. Quickly, I stand and put my gun on my back. Extending my hand to the guards, I let them know, it's safe.

"Come on. You're free now."

They're hesitant to let go of their safety net. The rail that supports them, and keeps them from falling into the riot below. My ears fill with the war-cries of men restrained and restricted before today. A guard takes my wrist in his hand, and my fingers wrap around his arm. Pulling hard, I get him to safety.

"Help the others!"

I yell as I run down the platform, trying to make it to Dezbe. I hear him behind me, not taking an order, but for the first time listening to his own conscience. He doesn't have to help them, but he is. Their training, was nothing compared to my own. Over the years, this place has gone soft. It was to my benefit, and their downfall.

"Charon!"

Dezbe calls my name, scared, panicked. The guards above her begin to climb up onto the same platform I'm running on. I can't reach Dezbe, with her being so far down and physically unable to hoist herself up.

"Don't you let go!"

"I wasn't planning on that!"

She tells me, angry and witty. It nearly makes me want to laugh, but the seriousness of the situation sets in. Below, men turn into savages. They attack Andrew, who by now must be dead, and they attack the men trying to get them back in line. All it takes, is one man, to incite a riot. Today, that man was Dezbe. That man, a woman, ignited a domino effect of rebellion, and power. If she falls, even though their freedom is because of her, they will kill her. Nothing more than animals, they will tear apart their prey with no mercy. It isn't their fault.

Looking around, I see there is nothing long enough to reach her. She is running out of time, and strength.

"You need to pull yourself up!"

"Charon I _can't_ it hurts!"

Then I have to go down. I have to. Getting to where the fallen platform is still holding up, I climb over the hand rail and lower myself down. The riot below gets more violent, more vicious, but I don't look down and I don't think of it. My main objective, is to get to her.

"Charon! What the hell are you doing?"

I ignore her as I skillfully climb down, my agility and nimbleness second to none. The orders I hear in my mind, when I get into this state, are muted. For the first time, I fight and use my training, without the noise. Without the cries, of my trainer, and with only Dez's voice. Hand over hand, foot over foot, I get to her. We're on opposite sides, but the width of the platform isn't more than three feet. I reach out to her, and she takes my hand.

"Trust me!"

I yell over the screaming men. As if she knows, Dezbe nods and jumps onto my body. Her added weight buckles my body, as her arms wrap around me tight and secure.

"Don't let go, Dezbe."

"I won't."

She closes her eyes, and presses her head into me. Just as I did, when the pile of rubble began to fall beneath our feet when our lives together first began, I curl my body around hers. I keep her safe, as I open my hands from the support of the rail. Closing my own eyes, as we fall down together, I cover her body with my arms and legs. I make sure, it's me who hits the ground first. No matter what, the girl curled into me, will be safe.

The crowd of raging men breaks the fall. Bodies crumple beneath us, and I feel Dez squirming from the safety of my arms. Opening my eyes, I feel the stomping feet of the men, distracted and unaware of our presence. The place has gone into utter chaos.

"Charon! Charon!"

Dezbe yells, as she shakes my arm as men swarm over us.

"Come on Charon!"

I stare at her, regaining control of myself. A fall of forty feet, did no harm. My body, is in pristine condition. I can't explain how, or why, but I accept it. Standing up, I pull Dez with me, and wrap a protective arm around her.

"Keep your head down!"

I say, tucking her face into my chest. Taking a deep breath, I break through the crowd of men. As they scream, fight, rebel and revolt, I can hear nothing but the sound of Dez's breathing, and the sound of my own heart beating within my chest.

"We have to get out! We have to let them out!"

Dez is right, but first, we need to retrieve something. As I make it to a doorway, I don't hesitate in opening it, and running through.

"Leave it open!"

I realize she says this, so that the others can see what's going on. The ones kept separate from the well-trained. Listening to her, I nod and grab her wrist.

"Where is the G.E.C.K?"

I ask this because all vaults are designed the same. They all keep the G.E.C.K in one special place, and Dezbe knows this.

"Control room!"

I know she wants to run, but instead I hold firm to her wrist. I make sure, she can run nowhere, as everything begins to collect in my mind. I said goodbye to her, not an hour before. This perfectly organized vault has shifted, in less than sixty minutes, to violent chaos that the war holds no candle to. All, because of the girl standing before me. Anger. I am angry.

"Why did you come back here?"

I ask her in a moment of silence, as we're safely within a room. There's no one around us, and although people are passing the open doorway, they're too distracted to look in. Dez's eyes grow wide as I stare at her, angry, intent.

"I don't want to live without you anymore."

"Stop being dramatic! Do you know what you could've done? Do you know how lucky you are that things turned out this way?"

"Stop yelling at me! I did it for us!"

I blast from somewhere makes me cover her with my own body by sheer instinct. It's a small explosion, but it creates a fire. I can smell the melting of rubber coming in slowly from the doorway. This place isn't well-ventilated enough to contain a large fire. Time, is suddenly, not on our side. From beneath me, as we stand, Dez squirms and pushes me away.

"I came back because I wanted to."

She says, strong and defiant as ever.

"Why are you angry? What did I do? I would have let them kill me if I didn't get to take you with me."

I'm not angry at her. But, I see and know she believes I am. Looking down at her, I sigh, the growing heat of the ground floor becoming apparent.

"…Thank you."

I didn't want to stay here. Honestly, I wish Andrew truly did wish to kill me. That he wanted the best subject to ever leave here, dead so that the secrets of this place could never be unearthed. He didn't. He wanted me, for the exact purposes he said. My life, would have ended here, just as it began here. Although I had given Dezbe the gift of freedom, I also wanted it selfishly for myself.

Looking at her, her face relaxes as she realizes I'm not angry at her.

"I didn't want to stay here. I only agreed, so that you could be free."

"Yeah. I know."

I want to stand here, looking at her like this forever. The way she looks, as the light and shadows contrast against themselves on her face, is beautiful. Time isn't with us right now, though, and I let go of her hand.

"You must find the control room, there isn't much time."

Another small blast from somewhere echoes throughout the room. People begin to realize the open door, and peer in between bodies rushing past. Knowing the severity of the situation, Dez looks around. Her eyes fall on the signs above the doors, and I see the thought process beginning to take place. Quickly, she tugs at my hand.

"This way."

To my right, against the far wall, there is another door. I take the gun from my back for safety reasons as chaos soon fills the room we're departing from.

"The G.E.C.K was always in the lowest levels of the vault, you know to protect it. We don't really have time to scout for it, so if it's not there we have to leave it."

"Dez, if we retrieve it…"

"Yeah the world gets all fuckin' green and sunny again I know. But it's not worth losing our lives over. If it's not there, it's not there."

She says this as we dodge oncoming people, some in jumpsuits, many in suits. They overlook our presence, knowing by uniform we don't belong but aren't important enough to waste time on. News of the revolt has reached all the rooms and levels by now, so the trainers are putting all their attention and energy into restoring order. I want to stop, and tell them their efforts are quite useless. The men kept here, won't listen to reason. They've lost that skill.

"Stay close!"

I yell to Dezbe over the shouts, the bodies, and the mass hysteria that's swarming us in the narrow corridor. Latching on to my belt, she begins to almost pull me along with her as she leads the way. Reaching over her, I keep people away from us, and out of our path, by hitting them with the butt of my gun. I don't want to harm the men here, only Andrew. The men here, are the same as me. They did nothing, to deserve to die. We go unnoticed by them, but are caught in their rampaging paths. As I raise my gun once more, in protection of myself and of Dezbe, I am suddenly frozen in place.

Seemingly from nowhere, an ear-shattering noise emits throughout the vault. Everyone around me, those in jumpsuits, stop every movement. An eerie silence befalls the world around. I can hear nothing, as slowly pain is registered throughout my body. Dropping my gun, I fall to my knees. Covering my ears, I steal a glance around me. Dezbe stands, confused, scattered within the crowd of suits. She hears the sound, but feels no pain from it. A part of conditioning, that I believed this place had long stopped the use of. I was a fool.

For this exact reason, myself and others, were conditioned to feel agonizing pain at this particular frequency. An annoying ring to everyone else, causes paralyzing and crippling pain for us. My hands do nothing to block the sound from my ears, as I fall with men equal to me on the ground. They used this to stop riots. To keep peace. To remind us, that no matter how much freedom we think we have, we are still ultimately at their mercy.

"Charon? Charon?"

I see Dezbe above me, confused. Any slight move I make increases the pain, and her touch sends me screaming in agony. I feel like a dog, in one of Pavlov's experiments. I am no different.

"Charon? What's wrong? Charon?"

The men in suits stare down at us. They have a smug look on their clean-shaven face, and still pay no mind to Dezbe. One woman is not their concern, amongst a crowd of revolting war machines. I stare into her eyes, unable to speak. It hurts too much, to even blink, as my hands force themselves harder against my head. A pitiful attempt to block out the noise that stifles the rioting.

"In lieu of Andrew Lyon's death, I am the new commander. I am Warren Lyons. This is a reminder, of how you are not men. Of how you are merely machines, fabrications of men, and your only purpose is to serve us."

Warren Lyons, the successor in the chain of command. I hear him over the noise, as his voice and the sound frequency play simultaneously. He tells us, how we betrayed him and his hospitality, and reminds us of our place in the world. Around me, men wither and squirm in pain. They don't scream, it hurts to scream. Instead, they remain still and stiff, the only movement, coming from Dezbe.

I stare at her, paralyzed by the pain, as I watch her face change. Something inside of her, switches. I see in her eyes, the same determination and anger, that I once saw decades ago when fighting for the Purifier. Only this time, the look she casts as she reaches for my gun, puts fear even in myself.


	42. Reach Out Your Hand

(Dez)

My entire life, I've been fighting. Fighting myself, my classmates, enemies, friends, everything. Since I was nineteen, I've lived in this land, and fought for it just the same. It didn't matter, if I agreed with whom I was fighting or not. The only thing that ever mattered to me, was fulfilling the wishes of my parents, and saving those I cared for. The people, I would lay my life down for. Since I was nineteen, I have been in love with the same man. That same man, has been fighting his own battle, for over three-hundred years. I'm not letting him fight it alone anymore.

You ever love someone so much, that when you meet, neither one of you can understand the severity of the emotions? The complexity and sheer shock of seeing them, sends you into spiraling denial, and you pick fights because you have no idea how to deal with the emotions presented to you. Charon…has been that person to me. I've let him hold in his pain for too long. Not anymore. Now, there's a reason for this to be my fight. A reason now more than ever, for me to bring that bitch out of hibernation, and take back what is rightfully mine. This is my land, and this is my man. There won't be a piece of steel left from this place, when I'm done.

Reaching down, I grab Charon's shotgun. I know the sudden stalling of movement, and the crippling of all these men, has something to do with the noise playing under the voice, over hidden speakers. Charon stares up at me, his movement hindered by the pain I can see written all over his face. I'm not stupid. I can safely assume, this is another one of their fucked up games they played with their men. Another way to keep them in line. I can only guess the ones in suits, the ones who have completed their training and are unharmed by the sound, have been conditioned to no longer associate pain with it. They really did a good mind-fucking on them.

They ignore me, as I give Charon one last look, and turn my back. Some of the suits stare at me, as if they know I'm not supposed to be here. Well, no shit. For one I got tits, two I'm wearing a 101 jumpsuit, and lastly, this noise has no effect on me. As I push past them, trying to make my way to the stairwell to get to the lower levels, they begin to slowly crowd me. A red, flashing light begins in the hall, and I recognize it as the sprinkler system. Two seconds later, I'm drenched.

I can still hear the frequency, as I cock Charon's shotgun. The noise of that overpowers the voice on the loudspeaker, and the suited men make a small pathway. They have no orders to hurt me, they can't hurt me. Their orders, were to simply calm the riot. Now the riot is calm, and they must stand and watch. I can assume this, too, because if they had orders to stop us, they would have. Trust me, I have no doubt in my mind, these men would have done away with me and Charon the second they were given the say-so to.

Standing atop the stairwell that will take me down to the lower chambers, I look back and see them. The men in suits, all stand and stare at me. Through their blank faces, I see something. Maybe it's because of the water blurring my vision, or the anger making me see red, I don't know. But, I see in their eyes, the want for me to succeed. Deep down inside, I know the recognize Charon as their own, as someone to be revered. Secretly, I feel they envy his freedoms. I think, there'll be hesitation, like there was before, if they were ordered to kill us.

Turning my back, I waste no more time in contemplating 'what if's' and human nature. Going down the steps two-by-two, I nearly slip on a flat platform. I steady myself with the railing, and as I continue down the abnormally long stairwell, I hear a noise. A noise…that eerily creeps up slowly, quiet, and with each step grows louder. Getting closer to the bottom, I realize this is the sound Charon meant, when he asks if they can hear the children weeping.

Greeted by a set of rooms, I quickly read the signs above. There is a terminal on the wall, and I notice as I get close to the doors, they don't automatically open. Inside, beneath each numbered sign, children are locked in these rooms. Morality and womanhood comes into play. As a woman, the sound of children strikes a chord within my instinct. I have to save them, even though there isn't time to.

Making my way to the terminal, I let my hands work their magic. The screen reflects two shades of green on my face, as my hands work faster than my mind to unlock the doors. Sealing children to die, in a place I intend to destroy, cannot happen. With a few more strokes of the keyboard, I hear a mechanical lock open, and the doors come to life.

Peering inside, as I step away from the terminal, I'm shocked. Each door wasn't labeled as a specific room number, but instead, how the rows in this one large room are assigned. Even though all the doors are unlocked, only one opens. The one I'm standing closest too, and looking in from. Staring back at me, are the eyes of fifty or more kids, no older than six years. Their faces are pale from never seeing sun, and their hollowed eyes are red from crying. Fifty pairs of eyes stare back at me, in silent wonder. Have they ever seen a woman before? I haven't seen one here, aside from myself. I guess they keep them separate, only for the purpose of continuing the people.

"…I won't hurt you."

I tell them. I make sure to not use a powerful tone, but instead one they've never heard before. The tone I use, is motherly. Frightened, and with every right to be, the children stare back at me as I step in. For now, the G.E.C.K is the last thing on my mind. I just want to help these kids. As I step in, the kids take a step back. They huddle together in fear, and I'm thinking they haven't really advanced much in their training.

"Who…are you?"

A small voice says in the background somewhere. Even though it's a bright, stainless steel room, I can't make out where the voice came from.

"I'm here to help. If you listen to me, all of you can get out of here alive."

"And go to the above world?"

The above world? Hey, whatever they're calling it these days, it means the same thing to me. Freedom is freedom.

"Yes. Listen, you can't leave right now, it's too dangerous. When I find the G.E.C.K, I'll come back here, and help all of you escape."

The kids look at one another, hesitant. One of them in front speaks up.

"…But…we don't know how to go out there. Will the older ones be there, too?"

I think carefully about how to answer this, and wish that Charon was with me. I don't know much about how the older people treat the younger, and I don't want to scare them even more.

"Are the older ones, the ones who are good to you?"

"The ones who…aren't in the black suits."

"Yes. They will be there too. They'll help you, if you listen to them."

I can tell the kids aren't fully convinced. Shit I don't blame them, either.

"How'd you get here? You don't look like anyone here."

I don't have time to answer questions, but I can't risk them not trusting me, and then killing a bunch of kids by mistake. Sighing, I rub my temples and figure if I'm going to find the G.E.C.K and save these kids, I have to sacrifice a little time.

"Someone who was here way back when this started brought me here. We didn't know it was still running. We came here for answers."

"You're lying! The older ones said that no one is alive from the first time!"

They get defensive and I raise my hands to shush them. It works, and it also scares them. I feel guilty.

"No, listen, I'm not a liar. In the…above world, there is a sickness. It makes you live forever, and makes you lose a lot of skin. They're called 'ghouls'. He was around the first time, and lived through the uh…Big War, and brought me back here to help find out answers."

I feel like I'm talking to an alien race as I use their lingo, and wave my hands around in a descriptive manner. Funny, I notice, there's no sprinkler system in here. Anyways that's a small detail, and I look back at the kids. They stare at me, almost disbelieving my story.

"Is there any way I can get you to trust me?"

This time I'm more casual. By this simple tone change, I see some relief coming over their faces. The one in front who had talked earlier, steps forward.

"…We're taught in school, that there was one man from the first time who was very important. They told us…that he was still alive, and it would make him proud if we were just like him. Because…they said he was really good at this stuff. And…if we can be better than him, than we can go free."

Alright. They understand they're prisoners here, I get that. But still they're talking like a bunch of cannibals out in the Wasteland who've never seen another person before. Then again they're six, and sheltered worse than I was, so I can't split hairs here.

"That's who brought me here."

Since I've been around Charon so long, the whole 'greatest fighter' aspect of him has been numbed to me. Really, I didn't know how much of an uproar he caused here, and how important he was to the people. Let alone that they still talked about him, and taught their kids about him. Or, rather, the kids. Don't think there is much child rearing going on here, just basic survival. Still, once I mention that the man they're taught about and the man that brought me here are one in the same, the kids let out a unanimous gasp.

"…You're lying! You're lying! He's dead!"

They step forward and even with time against me, impending doom over me, and the slim chance of getting out alive, I find myself much more scared of this group of six-year-old boys.

"No, listen to me! He's not! He's upstairs and he needs your help!"

My quick thinking suddenly comes in handy. These kids can help. They're little, and can maneuver better than the adults.

"Why would someone as great as him need help? You're a liar!"

"Yeah!"

Wracking my brain, I think of something, and become defiant. Stepping forward, I take a threatening stance. Though, I'm not sure how threatening I am right now.

"Wait! Wait! I know his number!"

The kids suddenly stop, and I pull the dogtag necklace Charon gave to me out. I show it to them, reading off the number.

"0001284936!"

A hushed silence falls over everyone, as they stare at the necklace. It's like it hypnotizes them for the moment, and then the child up front speaks again.

"…Then…that means…"

All eyes turn to a lone boy in the back. He's younger than the rest, I'd say around the age of five. Cowering away from the rest of the group, the boy's eyes meet mine. I'm confused, and growing more impatient by the second.

"He knows where the G.E.C.K is. He can show you."

The kids part, as one of the older boys, six, leads the small child to me. I crouch down, meeting both of them at eye-level.

"We'll help him. He'll help you."

The older one says, staring at me, waiting for my orders. I hate to do this to them, but I know…it's the only way to get at least some of them out.

"Alright. We'll go find the G.E.C.K. When we come back, follow us up. After that, find the oldest person you trust, and _stay with them_. This is going to be dangerous."

The children nod in union, and I take the hand of the smallest child. He looks up at me, blue eyes reflecting against the white light.

"This way."

His voice is soft, meek and scared. Bruises cover his neck and face, telling me he's no exception to the cruel punishments that happen here. Looking back at the kids as I leave the room, I see their faces set in stone-cold bravery. Even at their young age, death in the above world, is better than life down below. I wish I had that drive, when I was that young.

As we leave the room, the door closes but doesn't lock behind me. Timidly, the child leads me, holding my hand tight and unfamiliar.

"Do you have a name? Or number?"

"No."

He says, not looking at me.

"Why did the other kids pick you to help me?"

The hall narrows and we're forced to walk side-by-side. Charon's gun straps securely to my back, as I slide the necklace back into my pocket with my free hand.

"…Because."

"You don't know?"

Stopping, the child looks up at me, his eyes more serious than I've ever been.

"I know."

"Then will you tell me?"

Annoyed, he sighs and reluctantly nods as we start to walk again.

"…Our leader told me I was special."

"Why?"

"Because I'm the…de…des…descen…"

"Descendant?"

"Yeah. From the fighter we're told about."

My skin turns ice cold. I look down at the child, and my hand falls from his grasp. My mind goes blank, and I stare into those familiar blue eyes. Looking into them now, there's no mistaking it. Somehow, this child, is Charon's blood.

"…How? I mean, it's been…three hundred years…"

"We don't have mommies."

"You don't?"

He shakes his head. For a five-year-old, he's pretty well spoken. I guess here they expect nothing less.

"We're made from the people before us."

Artificial creation. Test tube babies. I should have known that. I feel like slapping myself in the face for not thinking of it sooner. No wonder there's no women here. All the people, the population, has been grown from the DNA of the people who _started_ this facility. Blood and DNA was taken from Charon, for sure. His exceptional skills and obedience would have proven him a perfect candidate for offspring.

"Wait. If that's true, than what about the others? Didn't they make children before you?"

"They died."

I don't want to ask how. The dead experiments would have been this child's siblings. Which means, that this boy with the dark brown hair, is an exact match to Charon. A DNA so close, it's like a clone. There wouldn't have been an X chromosome in making a test tube baby. Simply grown from one strand, it means even their fingerprints are an exact match. Knowing this, as I slide my hand back into his, I want to make it out alive even more. And I want him, to come with me.

The kid, who I have yet to name in my mind other than 'Charon Number Two', feels the sense of pressure upon us. His pace quickens down the straight hall, until we're at an unmarked door.

"This is where they said to go if the place fell apart. They said the important case was here."

"The G.E.C.K."

As I'm about to open the door, I feel Charon Number Two pull at me.

"…Will we really…go to the above world?"

Smiling, I nod.

"Yeah, we will."

Like all the other vaults with G.E.C.K objects, it is the only thing in the room. A silver steel briefcase, with 'G.E.C.K' imprinted on the front, lays on a table. Retrieving it is so easy, it's comical. The kid waits for me just outside the open door, and I snatch the case up in my hands. Returning to him, I crouch down.

"You have a very, very special job."

Hearing this, his eyes light up. Taking the gun off of my back, I hand him the briefcase.

"Don't let anyone take this from you, okay? No matter what. It's your super special job. Can you handle it?"

"Yes!"

Even his determination reminds me of Charon's. Smiling, I turn my back to him while still crouching down.

"Okay then. Get on my back, and don't let go, okay?"

"Okay!"

He climbs on my back, with the seriousness of a soldier in training, and the freakish climbing abilities of a child. Playing like this with Zack when he was younger, helped me learn just how to position a child so they don't fall off. He holds on with his legs around my waist, and his arms around my neck. Skillfully, he zips the G.E.C.K briefcase into his child vault suit, and I feel the steel separating my back from his chest.

"Ready?"

"Ready."

"Alright, hold on."

I tell him. With Charon's gun in one hand, I keep balance with the other. I've wasted too much time, but it was time worth wasting. Imagine, if I never ventured to find the G.E.C.K? Charon's offspring, sort of, would have been dead and no one would have known otherwise. Sure no one would care since we wouldn't have known, but it's better that it happened this way. In the long run, for everyone, I think.

Getting back to the room with the children, I make sure that the kid stays on my back. Opening the door, I look at all of them, wanting to smile at their faces, but holding back.

"Come on."

They, since their so young, probably aren't conditioned to feel pain with the frequency. As I lead them up the stairs, their feet not knowing 'stealth' very well, I can still hear the annoying ringing as it amplifies louder and louder the closer and closer we get. Tons of tiny feet slam against the metal stairwell, taking each step as their personal musical instrument. Reaching the top, I stop to assess the hallway.

The suited men are where I left them, and hearing my return they turn and look at me. The ground is still littered with the bodies of the men in pain, and I realize now this isn't something for them to remind them of their place. Instead, they're using it as a form of torture. Even with the suited men staring at me, with a mixture of imposing intimidation and hope on their faces, I look back at the children who followed me. They're piled onto the stairwell, and instead of being the emotionless men who stand in front of me, they still cling to their humanity.

"They're in pain. We need to stop the noise."

The children look at me, and Charon Number Two's voice echoes in my ear.

"The magic word!"

"Yeah! The magic word!"

The children tune in, cheering, and I'm lost in this world they've created for themselves. At least the sprinkler system stopped.

"What's this word? What does it do?"

"It makes them forget the noise! We learned it, in case danger happened. All kids did. They said to use it to keep the older ones in line to keep us safe!"

Charon Number Two tells me, and I smile. With each action, there is a cancelling reaction. Loopholes are all around this place, under the guise of safety.

"What is it?"

Feeling powerful and proud, this kids smile up at me. Behind me, I can feel Charon Number Two smiling as well. In union, they scream the word at the top of their lungs.

"At ease!"

Without any more control, the children run past me. As the echoing of their small voices penetrates the ears of the men in pain, they slowly begin to rise. The pain, leaves them inch by inch, as the children run through the upper levels, wild and out of control. They continue to scream the sentence at the top of their lungs as they run. Each of them goes a separate way, and some find their older companions in the same hall and room Charon and I parted in.

"Now what?"

Charon Number Two asks me, fear in his voice.

"Close your eyes, and when you open them, this will all be over."

I hope he listens, because I can't bear to let him see the horror that is about to unfold. Pushing my way through the suited men, who fight to regain control over the newly freed prisoners, I see Charon towering high above everyone else.

"Charon! Charon!"

I scream over the rising noise levels. Children rejoice in the arms of their protective older siblings, for lack of a better word. From the corner of my eye, I see a man take a child in his hand safely. I know, they will escape here safely. In the meantime, I focus on getting to Charon. He hears me calling his name over the noise, and spots me in the crowd.

"Charon! I got the G.E.C.K!"

I tell him, as I feel Charon Number Two being lifted from my back. Turning around, a man in a jumpsuit tries to take him from me. This isn't about to happen. This child, is the last link to Charon. He means more to me, than I can even express. In the very short time I've met him, in the small amount of time I've had to digest this knowledge, I've come to want to protect this child above all else. Because he is a replica of the man I love. And the man I love, is all that matters to me in this world. Him, this child, and the friends I left behind in Megaton.

"No! Let him go!"

I say before landing a forceful punch on the man who holds Charon Number Two in his arms. The man hardly moves, and narrows his eyes at me. I've just created an enemy.

"Dezbe!"

Charon grabs me, and stand between the man and I defiant. Powerful hands reach towards the child holding the G.E.C.K, as Charon's mind knows he's important. Knowing me as well as he does, Charon knows I'd never simply pick a kid out of a litter like a dog to take care of. There's something special about him, and Charon plucks him like a flower from the cowering man. He cowers at Charon's size, at his strength, and at the glare that he emits from his icy blue eyes. Wrapping the boy in his arms, Charon pulls him close to his chest. I see, Charon Number Two, still has his eyes closed.

"Let's go!"

I tell Charon, and quickly we begin to move the crowd. Over the loudspeaker, we hear the pleas and cries of Warren Lyons. Children's maniacal laughter slices out any other sound. They stick close to their older men, they laugh at the chaos that takes a stronger hold on this place. Their pleasure in this, strikes fear in me. I wonder, if what we've done here, was truly the right thing to do.

"Dezbe! This way!"

Charon yells over the noise. I follow him, as we enter a room and find a set of stairs. Making our way through the rioting crowd isn't easy, but with Charon leading the way, it's a bit less trying. He uses his size and strength to push down the other men, careful not to harm the children, and even more careful to keep the one in his arms safe. I follow him, as he waits for me at the base of the steps.

"_Go_!"

He hisses, impatient and eager to get the hell out of this place. It's in a full scale, unstoppable revolt. I've never seen something like this. Something so big, in such a small place. We have to get out, or else we're fearing complete collapse. Yes, vaults can collapse. Very rarely, but if enough support beams are knocked, and enough steel is dented, it is possible.

As I run up the steps, I make sure Charon is following close by. He is, and he holds Charon Number Two the same way he would hold the infant Zack. Close, safe, protective, secure.

"Hurry up!"

I say to Charon as I reach the top of the landing first. The exit is close, so close I can almost taste it. An explosion vibrates the platform I'm on, and I almost lose balance. Feeling a strong hand grab hold of my arm, I look up to see Charon. With one arm, he holds the child, and the other he wraps around my wrist.

"Take him, _run_!"

Charon says, shoving the shaking child into my hands.

"What?"

"Get out! Wait for me outside! By the river, _go_!"

Without argument, I nod. There's no room for a kiss just in case. Instead, it's life or death, and right now I can't be selfish and die beside him. I have to take care of Charon Number Two. Getting us both out alive, is my main objective. Just as Charon's main objective, has always been to take care of me.


	43. The Devil is a Loser, and He's My Bitch

(Charon)

I had to make sure that she was safe, before I continued on. Her, and whomever that child was, had to be safe. I know there is a reason she has him, I know, that he is special to her. In the short time she was gone, I can't imagine where she found an army of children to relieve us of our pain, but I'm glad she did. Around me, as Dezbe and the boy escape and vanish, the place begins to shudder. Screams of men, laughter of children, fill my mind as they never have before. Calm, slow, I walk to the platform that supported Dez and I, and look down upon the chaos.

Behind me, around me, men run. Below me, utter rebellion is in it's finest. I smile down, as I see the men trying to control them, fail. I watch, as the older ones, take care of the younger. There is still something I have to do. Even though Warren's screams could be heard for a brief time, I know he is still alive. I know, he has guards protecting him. Even without a weapon, I do not doubt my abilities. I haven't felt this young, since before the Great War. I now know, what it is Dezbe feels, when she feels the rush and excitement of a kill fresh in her line of fire. It is something indescribable.

Blocking out everything else around me, I make my way to where Warren is. I don't know, how I know where he's hidden. I simply do. All I can hear is my boots clicking against the steel floor, and all I feel is the pleasure of finally extracting revenge. My fists open and close, eager to wrap themselves around his scrawny neck. Eager, to finally erase generations and centuries of pain. Dezbe is out of the picture. I don't have to worry, of her seeing the animal I have kept quiet for so long. Don't have to worry, of her being in the way, or of her safety. For the moment, I feel powerful. I feel free.

No longer, will I feel the strings that control me. I won't ever again, feel watched and followed. There will be no disturbance, and finally after three-hundred years, I can find peace. As I come to the cubicle that holds Warren, don't ask me how I know, I clear my mind, and for the last time, let my training take over. As my mind quiets itself, I close my eyes, and allow the sensations of the beast inside of me, take complete control.

Over the years, I've harnessed this. Harnessed and tamed the beast inside, with Dezbe's help, with her mere presence. Like a meditation, I can transform with concentration. To the monster, the terrifying beast I was meant to be. Dezbe has only seen this once, and I don't ever wish for her to see it again. I won't deny, the ultimate pleasure that I feel with this. The sensations of everything, is heightened as if I'm on a drug no man could invent or imagine. They wanted me to return. Wanted me, to be this monster. Flexing my hands, I stretch my back through my armor. Five years has passed, since I've been able to feel this rush. Since…I've been able to remember the rhythmic beats of combat…since I've felt so exhilarated.

_Assess the situation, examine, slow, tactful, patient._ Four of them, a fifth pitifully hidden behind the door. _Good, good. Feel it, Charon. Feel it course through you, inside your blood in your veins. Pulsing, racing, adrenaline is no match, for what is coursing through your body._ _Tell me, what does the exterior look like, Charon? Tell me._ Cold, warped steel. It shines, reflecting me. I don't recognize the person staring back at me, but I like him. Automatic, like the rest of the doors of vaults. _You trained for this, Charon. The people who arrogantly saved you, have trained you to be their downfall. Upper left corner. A weak spot. Take it, it's yours._ I reach up, balling my hands into fists. My height gives me an advantage. Hit it. Once. Twice. The door squeals, screeches. Whizzing, it opens.

_Behind the door. Elbow, throat, cripple. _He falls to the floor. _The other four, armed, careful._ Grab the guard on the ground, lift him, use him to my advantage. Still alive, he screams in agonizing pain as I manipulate his arm around his back, twisting him to my mercy. _The gun, Charon, take the gun. _No. Unarmed. I was trained for this. I will use it. Distract them, throw the light weighted guard to the ground. Cries of pain distract the men, their training, pitiful.

_To your left._ Grab oncoming guard, slightly distracted, I'm faster. Swipe foot behind knee, collapse. Grab pressure point behind neck, paralyze with movement. _Behind you, Charon. _Lift right leg, aim, attack. Make connection with diaphragm. He loses wind, staggered back. Break neck of the guard on the ground, death is quick and painless. _Don't forget, there's two more, Charon. _Their bodies fall atop mine. Minor flaw. Hands unrestrained, legs held down. Reach around, grab tie of guard in front of me, pull tight in strangulation. Other two, one distracted, the other winded. Forceful kick, regain composure.

I stand and make eye contact with the two still living. I loom over them, their momentary God. Their decider, of life and death. Fearful, they haven't ever seen a man like me. A man, capable of knowing their moves before they're able to execute them. I was trained by greater men, in better ways. The methods have softened over the years, noticeably so. Cowering, they back into the corner of the room, near the door that keeps me from Warren. I take threatening steps towards them.

"Get out."

I tell them, giving them a last chance to choose life, or death in obedience. They choose the latter, and flee like cowards from me. This would not have been tolerated in my time. This would have resulted in painful and unmerciful death. I watch them go. _It's time, Charon. You've waited for this, for three-hundred years. End it, for good, forever. The last of the line, no time to procreate. Take your revenge, and savior every moment of it._

I stare at the door. It's the only thing that separates me from Warren. Andrew is dead, and he is the last of the Lyons. I know this, I can feel it waging deep inside of me. Outside the cubicle, crashing noises, screams, and children's laughter fills the air. With no more hesitation, I open the door.

"Charon!"

He calls my name, as the door opens, and I stand before him. The room is a closet, nothing more. The cowering thing below me, isn't worth being called a man. Staring down at him, my heart races within my chest. This is what I have been waiting for, since the beginning of my exile from here.

"You prayed, that I wouldn't come back, didn't you?"

Shaking feverishly, Warren nods his head. Sweat forms on his forehead, and drips down. Taking a step in, he crawls back, and presses himself against the wall.

"For centuries, the memories of this place plagued me. They haunted me. Every night, I heard them. The children. Their cries penetrated my mind, at even the most intimate moments. Moments, I will _never_ get back. Moments, the memories of what your family did, ruined."

I take another step, and he has nowhere to run. I block his only exit. I stand in the way, of his only salvation.

"C-C-Charon we had n-n-no idea you'd l-l-live…"

"That is a lie, and we both know it."

"T-the girl! We had no control over that! We d-d-d-didn't know!"

"I'm grateful you didn't."

My demeanor is calm, calculated. An opposite against his lunacy and nervousness. Eyes widening as I take another step forward, Warren begins to panic.

"I'll give you anything! Anything! Caps? A home? You name it! I'll send them to work! Have them build you the most extravagant home in the Wasteland! For you and the girl!"

"It is not pre-war. There is no need for such things. Anything else you care to offer?"

"Files! We have files! You have family!"

"No. I killed my family. You weren't born then, Warren. Wait. Listen."

I hold my hand up, and the only noise we hear, is the noise of the outside. Chaos, in its purest form.

"Can you hear it?"

I ask him, looking around.

"Hear…hear what?"

"The children, Warren. Can you hear, what I have heard, for the past three-hundred years? Can you hear the children, screaming, weeping?"

"You're the devil! You're the embodiment of the devil!"

I look down at him, and smile as I plan to extract my revenge. I have savored every moment of this.

"No, Warren. I'm not the devil."

He stares blankly at me.

"The devil is a loser, Warren. He's a loser, and he's my bitch."

I cannot help but give into the carnage I feel inside. I cannot help but fall victim to the beast inside. It may be the last time, I ever feel something like this. The last time I'll ever need to feel it. A relief, a temporary miss, but for now I'll feel it. Feel it, and show Warren what it is, they truly trained me for.

I did not go easy on him. I let him suffer. The cries of his pain, silenced the children of three-hundred years. His agony, stretched far beyond the small closet he stupidly caged himself in. Behind me, I left an unrecognizable man, and a trail of fresh, warm, and mahogany-shimmering blood. With his lifeless corpse, I left the beast I had kept inside for so long. I won't need him anymore. I won't need that animal. If anything happens, from here on out, I will rely only on my skills. My special set of skills, that ensured my survival. They would like to think, the Lyons, that they secured my life. No. Without my own ingenuity, and knowledge graced upon me by John, I would not have made it.

As I walk, soaked in blood and smelling of death, I think of what truly has benefitted me, and caused me to survive over the years. Surely, it was not only them. No, not just them. My ability to adapt and analyze any situation is a birthright, not a learned thing. A skill that I've known and honed since I was able of conscious thought. And…the ability to learn, by observing, by relating. Dez's presence, her warmth and strength, I have learned from that, as well.

My soul, if I have one, feels cold as I leave the vault behind me. Leaving the door open in my wake, I lift my head as I ascent the steel stairs. Bloodied footprints leave a trail, and I close my eyes in the wake of it all. In the wake of the echoing chaos, the warmth of blood, the coldness of cardinal sins weighing on my soul, the tingling in my arms, with youth restored. I don't feel the weight of my armor, as I walk. It's the first time.

Walking to the second set of steps, the ones that lead to the Citadel Ruins. The ones, that will lead me to Dezbe, I take a look behind me. A child's head pokes out from the vault steps. Our eyes meet, and he stares at me. He looks into my soul, at my blood-stained body, and his eyes widen. I raise a finger to my lips, a childish gesture I picked up and learned from Dezbe. The child in question, smiles at me. Dust coats his face from the ruckus below, and he nods. Mimicking my movement, he looks down at people below him. People I cannot see.

"I saw him! I saw the big fighter!"

He says, his voice echoing against the vast steel. I leave the room, and make my way to Dezbe. My feet echo against the steel, and my heart pounds in my chest. For the first time in my life, I am truly free. There are no more people, controlling me. No more memories, for I have atoned for everything. Untrained, retrained, and freed again, my life has been in constant control of someone else. That is, until now. Now, I am in control. I no longer feel responsible for any of the deaths I caused whilst bound to my contract. I don't feel, that the souls of the people back then, hold it against me. We all did things, we're not proud of.

The only ones, I want to control me, to have any say in my choices, are the ones waiting for me. Dezbe, Gob, Zack…the people who have come to be my friends. In the most unluckiest of places and circumstances, we have created a small, broken family. It's the closest thing, any of us will have at a real family anyways. I don't much mind it, because the only thing separating us from those born together, is the same DNA. Dez and Zack, are as like Gob and myself as they can be. Whilst carrying the immunity to radiation, their genetic makeup, is not far off from ours. I cannot wait, to return to the home Dez and I call our own. To kiss her in the moonlight as I once did. To hold her close, and spent the rest of my life, making up for five years of selfish absence.

The moonlight shines over my face, in a silvery ray of rebirth, as I emerge from the doors of the Citadel B Ring. For a moment, I stop and wait in the light. It's a warm night, fresh, rejuvenating. Further away, over the ruined foundations of the place I called home for so long, waits Dezbe. She waits for me, tired, hungry, but eager to begin a new life. Somehow, she understands the beauty of the beast. I won't ask how, because the workings of a woman's heart is difficult, complicated, and unexplainable. Instead of questioning, I take the first step forward towards her.

Getting closer, I hear something soft. Being carried by the breeze of the night, as I walk over a small pile of dirt and debris, I look down. The river glistens, as the voice waivers over the land. A plume of smoke engulfs the figure below, as she sings a tune I have missed desperately.

"…You saw her bathing on the roof, her beauty in the moonlight overthrew you…"

Dez's voice, sultry, guttural, seductive, entices me. I stand still, savoring this moment more than I have anything before. Killing my enemies, as refreshing and fulfilling as it was, is nothing compared to this.

"…I used to live alone before I knew you. I've seen you flag on the marble arch, love is not a victory march…it's cold and it's a broken hallelujah…"

Staring at her from atop the small hill, I don't want to move, and ruin the moment. I don't want to break this beautiful sight, of the woman I love, singing by a glistening river filled with pure water. Water, that will help this land grow with the aid of the G.E.C.K. Happy endings, are never an option in reality. Yet sometimes, for those who've earned it, I feel it's given. All Dez and I have to worry about now, is what we're going to do the next day. What to eat, and where to share drink at. Slowly, I begin to walk towards her.

"…the minor fall, the major lift, the baffled king composing…"

Against a full moon, in the night sky littered with billions of stars, I come up behind her. Staring at her, it is true. Her beauty in the moonlight, as she dips barefoot feet into the river, whilst smoking her cigarettes, is breathtaking. With her eyes closed, she sings in peaceful harmony with the world. The scars on her face from Point Lookout, add to the mystic that I've come to know as Dezbe.

"…I don't even know the name, but if I did, really what's it to ya? There's a blaze of light in every word, it doesn't mater which ya heard, the holy or the broken hallelujah…"

She takes a step, rippling the water. Her eyes still closed she takes a drag of her cigarette, and continues singing. She's beautiful right now, I don't want to disturb her.

"I did my best, it wasn't much. I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch. I told the truth, I didn't come to fool ya. And even though it all went wrong, I'll stand before the lord of song, with nothing on my tongue but hallelujah…"

"Hallelujah…"

Jumping a bit, Dezbe looks at me. Her fear is instantly replaced with realization, and relief.

"Charon…"

I meet her at the water's edge, and waste no time in embracing her. Her cigarette hisses as she drops it in the water to wrap her arms around my shoulders. With no wait, she kisses me with passion that's been absent for far too long. I feel her back with my fingers, and lose myself in strands of her hair. Closing my eyes, I rely only on what I feel, to guide me around her curvaceous body.

"…I thought you wouldn't get out of there…"

She says to me, worried and pressing her forehead against my chin. Overcome with restrained passion, and full freedom, I kiss her forehead as I wrap her tighter in my grip.

"It's alright now, Dezbe. Everything will be alright."

Kissing her again, I remember the nights where I would long for her to kiss me. Where I would tease myself, with thoughts of this before our relationship even began. I never dreamed back then, that it would all come to be.

"I was scared."

She says, resting a tired head on my chest. Running my fingers through her hair, I sigh, and she sighs with me.

"You don't have to be scared anymore. There's nothing left for us to go against. Everything, finally, will be peaceful."

"Charon?"

I feel her pulling away from me. Looking down, I watch her examine the wet and red stains on the front of her jumpsuit. She looks up at me, the mischievous glint in her eyes.

"You covered me in blood. Wait. Is it your blood?"

"No, Dezbe. It's Warrens."

Smiling at me, she steps back into the water.

"Wash it off. We have a long road back home. And I have a surprise for you."

Kneeling down, I watch her as she walks past me. Whatever surprise she has, I assume it'll end in sex. In the past, when we lived together for three years, that's how her 'surprises' always ended. I won't complain. Washing the blood off of my arms, Dezbe returns to me. As I finish splashing the fresh water everywhere, I stand up. She hands me my shotgun, and I strap it to my back. In her hand she holds the G.E.C.K, and she smiles.

"I have another surprise for you, but he's sleeping."

Suddenly I remember the child she brought with her, and I grow concerned.

"Dezbe, you have to…you cannot take on a child that isn't yours. He may be an orphan, but his place is with his kin. Take him back."

"You're talking about him like he's a puppy, Charon."

"I didn't mean it like that."

She sighs and leads me to the sleeping child. He sleeps in his jumpsuit, on a bed of sand.

"I think…you might want to sit down for this explanation."


	44. We'll Let This Be Our Hideaway

(Dez)

Charon sits down like the good boy he is. Although really I think the two of us are just flat out exhausted. You know, with all this fighting and carnage surrounding us, you'd think we'd develop severe mental problems. We probably have, and are too dumbshit crazy to realize it, though. Either way, sitting down next to Charon, I stare at Charon Number Two sleeping in the sand. I didn't rehearse how I was going to explain this. To be honest while we were waiting out here, all I was thinking about was how this is possible. The chances are one in a million, no, katrillion, and here it is going down.

Really, Charon Number Two is a sort of clone from Charon. I got some more of the details out of him before he fell asleep like a crashed junkie. Can't blame him though, probably way past his bedtime. Apparently, they took the remaining blood and DNA samples Charon had left behind, and over the years worked on creating another him, basically. Few centuries and failed attempts later, Charon Number Two was born. All of the others died in infancy, as they couldn't sustain life outside of the tube they had been grown in. Charon Number Two is the only successful experiment of the plan, and was of great importance to the, erm, community? Charon truly was the greatest warrior and soldier of his time, and they knew that. Guess I just got used to being around the deadliest thing on planet Earth.

"I have absolutely no idea how I'm going to explain this."  
"Explain why you took a child and piggybacked him in warfare?"

I shake my head and light another cigarette out of nerves. Charon takes it, so I'm left lighting yet another one.

"No…explaining _why_ I took a child out of his home and piggybacked him in warfare."

Charon looks at me as I resort back to nineteen-year-old mentality. I tend to do such things around Charon, and when a difficult situation arises. Only reason I hadn't, is because Charon wasn't Charon before and it was really hard. Now he is. And I'm okay. Still wondering why I'm not horribly traumatized, though.

"I suggest you tell me, Dezbe."

"I'm _trying_ it's just _really_ hard."

"Why? It can't be that difficult. You thought he was cute, or something inane?"

"He's not a dog, Charon. He's a person."

"I know that."

"He's you."

I blurt it out so fast, that when Charon looks at me in confusion I smile. Of course it doesn't set in and he doesn't believe me. It's the whole convincing him part I have to do.  
"…Do I want to know this?"

He asks cautiously, with a bit of humor.

"There's blood on your chin."

"Oh."

Seems like he's back to normal. At least, as normal as you can be out here. I feel young inside again, like a kid. All the bad things seemed to go away once I left that stupid compound behind. Except I worried about Charon, but that resolved itself. Now, I just feel like I could jump to the moon.

"So anyways, back to the kid…well he doesn't have a name or number yet. And if I name him I will love him."

"…I thought he wasn't a dog?"

Taking a drag of my cigarette, I decide it's time to stop beating around the bush and let it out. Giving myself a serious face and tone, I look at Charon.

"The kid is you, I wasn't being stupid, Charon."  
"I still don't understand."

"They grew him in a tube. Made from your blood and DNA taken by I'm guessing a doctor from the compound. I don't know how it survived, but he's the only thing of you they created that was able to live outside of the tube. There was no more of your blood left, to keep the experiment going, so…he was the last thing they made. You were a great mercenary, Charon. They didn't miss that."

Charon's face is a mixture of…well, understanding and sadness. I wait for him to answer, the silence killing me.

"…I'm not surprised by this."

"What? Why? I was. Almost shit my pants."

"Because they have tried it in the past, before I succeeded in surpassing their standards. They took the strongest men, and attempted the same thing. It never worked."

I look at Charon Number Two, and smile a bit. In Charon's tone, there's hope. It's small, and almost deaf, but there.

"…What do you want to do then? He's part of you."

I've never seen Charon, with eyes like that before. Even when Zack was growing up, Charon never looked at him the way he looked at the sleeping boy. Reaching over, Charon gently touches his skin. His fingers trace up to his hair, and back down his neck. It's as if he's recognizing this boy for the first time, like he sees himself in him. Which, wouldn't surprise me considering they're like twins. Wouldn't that make them brothers? Siblings? Either way, there's relation and Charon is older. Making him, guardian, or even more, dad.

"I carried the souls over the River Acheron in Hades. That is the meaning of my name."

Charon tells me this as if I don't already know.

"What're you getting at?"

"I would like to stick to Greek names."

I smile, and lean against Charon as he smokes his cigarette and stares at the kid.

"Greek names are old now, Charon. You got lucky because yours sounds updated."

"Cain, then."

"Cain?"

"Yes."

Charon stands up, and offers his hand to me. I take it, still nervously smoking on my cigarette. Cain. The boy's name is Cain. Naming him, gives him something new, now. He means something to us. I look at Charon and see he's taking this seriously.

"I can't give you children, Dezbe."

"There's a pill for that."

He gives me a look.

"No, really, there is. It's at home. Barrows gave it to me. Said you had a day to do it, because you'd be fertile. If you wanted to…anyways."

"Keep it, in case. For now, we'll raise Cain as our own."

"He is yours, Charon."

Kissing the top of my head, Charon bends down and scoops up Cain. It'll be strange for me, not calling him Charon Number Two, but seeing the light in Charon's eyes as he looks at him…I don't think I'd have it any other way. It's offsetting, knowing Cain is an exact copy of Charon, but, in that same sense it's comforting too. One day, I'd like to have a kid with both of our DNA, but for now, this is big to Charon. The bloodline he carries can be flawlessly continued, and I have no doubt Charon will teach Cain all there is to know about surviving out here. With both of us parenting him, he's either really lucky, or really screwed.

"We going home now?"

I ask, tossing my cigarette. To be honest, I'm really, really tired.

"We'll find a safe place for us to sleep. With a child, we can't sleep outside exposed anymore."

Behind us as we walk, the cries of free men ring throughout the Wasteland. Charon and I look back, and see tall and small figures running free. We can't help but smile.

"He has friends out here, too. When he gets older, and we take him out, he's bound to run into those other kids."

"They'll survive fine, as long as they stay close to the older ones."

"Yeah. They'll be fine."

Turning back to face forward, I steal a glance at Cain. Charon moving him didn't wake him, and I'm guessing he was just as exhausted as we are.

"You know, we're going to make an odd set of parents."

"I would rather be odd, than uncaring and cold towards one another."

"What about when I get old? I won't look this good forever, you know. I'm lucky I look this good as is."

"Perhaps, due to your immunity to radiation, age will not be as harsh to you as it has been to others. If it is, it doesn't matter to me. I did not grow towards you, because of your body."

"But it's a perk, right?"

"Yes, Dezbe, it's a perk."

"We have yet to do the nasty."

"Our room will be beside Cain's."

"…Quiet nasty?"

Charon shakes his head, and I take his free hand with my free hand. He carries the kid we're going to parent, and I carry the G.E.C.K that will make Megaton flourish. Maybe Simms will give away his job to Charon, and we can take the big house. Then, Cain and the future child of Charon and Dezbe won't hear when their parent's get down and dirty. Gob can babysit, worse to worse.

As tired as I am right now, though, I can't help but smile. Staring at Charon against the blue-black night sky, in silence and quiet, it seems as if all the things we've ever wanted, is finally in reach. Now, there's nothing to stand in our way. With Charon's past buried, and all those who could have made it rise again, dead, I can't image now, what could stand in our way.

"There."

Charon lets go of my hand, and points to a pre-war house. It's in tact, and for the night it'll be good protection. Even though threats out here dwindled, with the newfound release of the people beneath the Citadel Ruins, it could rise again. They're angry, and have been contained and trained to kill. Plus, we have Cain to worry about now. But, honestly…I don't think it's a concern. With Charon watching him, and me helping, no one is going to dare come near Cain. If they do, well, it's an easy way to commit suicide.

"Hopefully the door is unlocked."

I say a bit jokingly. As Charon and I come to the door, he opens it. With the creaking wood coupled with how Charon really doesn't know how to hold a child, Cain wakes up. For a minute, he doesn't realize where he is. Sleepy and disoriented, he lifts himself up with his hands on Charon's shoulder. They stare at one another for a full minute, before Cain releases shrill, terrified screams.

"Let me go! Let me go!"

Flailing his small fists, he hits Charon in the eye. I can't help but laugh, as Cain fights his way out of Charon's arms, while Charon tends to his surprised eye. Running over to me, Cain hides behind my legs, terrified at Charon, and probably his appearance.

"It's alright. He won't hurt you."

I tell Cain, kneeling down to his level. Cain presses his body into mine, and I feel him shaking. He's scared. In a single night, he lost his friends, his home, and the small sense of security he had there. Now he's stuck with two people he doesn't know, in the middle of this wide and vast world. I can relate.

Staring at me, Cain wraps his arms around my neck.

"It's alright. He really won't hurt you."

"He's scary."

"Come here."

Motioning for Charon to take the G.E.C.K, I scoop Cain up in my arms, and position him on my torso.

"He's the man who let me in the place. He's the one you learn about. He won't hurt you."

"Perhaps we should discuss this further inside?"

Nodding in agreement, and with Cain in my arms, I walk through the door of the house, and Charon closes it behind himself. There's a big bedroom upstairs, that we'll let Cain sleep in. I don't think the kid has ever had a real bed before.

"Then why isn't he like the others?"

"The others?"

I ask as we enter the large bedroom. Thankfully there's no rotting skeletons on the bed, and it looks fairly clean. Setting Cain down on it, he sits, but still holds my arm securely.

"He's not like the others. The mean ones."

"Oh. Well. He's had a long, long time to change. He's not mean at all. You came from him."

I have no idea how to talk to children. That, is apparent.

"…I know. The bigger ones told me all the time. They said I was special."

"You are."

"Will I get to see my friends again?"

"He hasn't begun full training."

Charon adds as he walks over to me. Standing in front of the bed, he looks down at Cain. It's eerie, to think that Cain is an exact replica of Charon. It'll be even stranger, when he grows up. Looking at Cain, I think of motherly words to use to explain to him that his home, isn't there anymore. Surprisingly, Charon beats me to it.

"You'll see them in time. It wasn't safe for you there."

I stay quiet, as Charon knees down in front of Cain.

"Since it isn't safe to go back, and this outside place is very dangerous, would it be alright with you, if Dezbe and I took you in?"

Giving Cain the choice to decide is wise. It shows him, that he has the power to control his own life. Even if he's young, and regardless of his answer we're taking him in, it's a good change to the environment he would have gone into. Nervously, Cain looks from me to Charon and back again.

"…Will I have to train with you, too?"

"No. If you want to stay, as you get older I'll show you how to survive out here, but you'll have things your old home, would have never offered."

Cain thinks it over, staring at us.

"…The people said we had no one. I don't want no one. I don't want to be scared anymore."

"You won't ever be scared again."

Charon's tenderness is surprising. Although I had seen him interact with Zack, the closeness and sincerity was nothing compared to this.

"…What do I call you? Back home, we only had trainers. We didn't call them anything."

Charon looks at me, and I shrug. It's his conversation, not mine. I want to see where he's going with all of this.

"Call us what you want."

"Mom and dad?"

"If you feel the need to."

"What about me?"

"How does the name Cain sound? If you don't like it, we can pick one together in the morning."

Yawning, Cain thinks about this. I had just gotten use to Charon Number Two when Charon changed his name, and now that I'm warming up to Cain, I bet he's going to change it.

"…I like it. I'm scared, though. I don't know anyone."

"Don't be scared. We'll keep you safe."

"Is this our house?"

"No, our house is a ways away, but you'll like it. The place it's in, is safe. There's kids there, for you to play with."

"Play?"

This is obviously a discussion better left for another night.

"It's getting late, Cain. Why don't you move up to the pillows, and we'll tuck you in?"

I say, and he looks at me. Then, the damned kid smiles. I'm not sure what moves in me right then and there. Zack use to smile at me, and I never felt anything compared to what I'm feeling now. Staring into those baby blue eyes, my heart melts. I think I may just have felt, what it is mothers feel for their children. Suddenly, Cain being in any type of harm makes my blood boil. This is my son now, and Charon's. Together we share him, raise him, play with and teach him. With his agreement to stay, his approval on his name, he now has a sense of being. A place of belonging here. I've never felt responsible for anyone, except myself. I've never loved anyone except for Charon. Now, I love and am responsible for another person. Three, is a happy number.

"Okay."

Turning around, Cain crawls to the top of the bed, and I pull up the covers. He slides his body underneath, and I tuck him in. Charon and I sit on the bed, at his feet, and absentmindedly I rest my head on his shoulder.

"Why are you smiling?"

Cain asks me, and I just smile wider.

"Because I'm happy to have you here. We both are."

"…They said I was special inside. They said if I went outside, no one would think I was special."

"You are to us."

"I don't want to go back there."

"You won't ever have to. No one will take you anywhere, if you don't want to go."

"But I'm small."

"And I'm not."

Charon says to him. I want to remind Charon that Cain will match him in strength and height in a few years, but decide to keep it to myself. Instead, I lean forward and kiss Cain on his forehead. Even his scent, reminds me of Charon. One day, he's going to break every heart in the Capital Wasteland.

"Sleep well, Cain. Your…father…I suppose, and I will be downstairs."

"Why not up here?"

"Because if anyone comes in, they'll see us first and not you."

"And then what?"

"Then, if they're bad people, we'll take care of them. You just be sure to sleep well and not worry about that. Alright?"

As if he's taking on an order, Cain nods his head at us. Rolling on his side, he pulls the blanket up to his chin, and closes his eyes.

"This is comfy…"

He says before falling quickly into sleep, like tired children do. Quietly, Charon and I sneak out of the room, leaving the door open just a crack. Neither one of us speak, until we've made it down the stairs. There, we tear apart the pre-war couches to make a makeshift bed. I realize, as we set the pillows down and grab a blanket from the second bedroom, for the first time we're giving up something for a child. We'd rather be uncomfortable on the floor, than in the bed, so that Cain can sleep soundly. I've never felt this way, for any child, before.

"Charon?"

I say as I sit on the floor, lighting a cigarette whilst unzipping my vault suit.

"Hm?"

He's taking off the top half of his armor. His gun lays on the faded sea-foam green carpet, and my boots sit beside it.  
"…Think we can do it? Raise Cain? Have a real family?"

"I don't see why not."

"It's just that…we've always worried about one another. Having someone else changes things."

"Are you going back on this?"

Slipping off the top part of my vault suit, I let it collect around my waist. Taking a drag of my cigarette, smoke flows out of my nose.

"No, I'm not. I'm just thinking of how this changes things. I can't be selfish anymore."

Sitting beside me, Charon begins to unlace his boot. I put the cigarette I'm holding to his lips, and he takes some of it.

"It'll be different, and frightening at times. But, I can't figure anyone better in this world to protect him and care for him."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

Laying down, I slide off the rest of my vault suit. Getting off that dirty thing makes me feel a whole lot more relaxed. Kicking off my socks, I wiggle my toes and put my arm behind my head.

"I guess now, with no new challenges, it's the domestic life for us. We have a third mouth to feed, so we'll have to find a way to make caps."

I say to Charon, as he takes his pants off and sits only in his boxers and black shirt. He lays down next to me, plucking the cigarette from my hand.

"This time…it'll be different for us, better. Even though we now have Cain, I'd like to still have a child with you."

"Why?"

"Having one with you…would simply make me happy."

Rolling onto my stomach, I press my face into Charon's arm, and sigh deeply.

"We've done a lot together, haven't we?"

I ask him, closing my eyes. It feels like it's been forever, since I've been able to relax with him like this.

"Yes, we have."

"And we're still this involved with one another. Most people, would have fallen out of love. It's strange, how our lives worked out."

"Even with the bad things that have taken place, I'm happy with my life and where it's brought me. My mind now, seems a lot quieter on this night, than it has been since I left the compound."

Opening my eyes, I roll back onto my back and press myself against Charon. He wraps his arm around me, and under the blankets, our legs touch.

"It feels like we're starting a whole different adventure now. But…one that's enjoyable, you know? Instead of bloodshed and carnage and near-death happenings, it's quiet and worthwhile."

"The G.E.C.K will help this land, too."

"What's with your obsession with helping the land? I like it the way it is."

"Because I remember the parks and the grass of pre-war times. I remember how the air felt against my skin, and the freshness of it all. It was a bad time, but it was a beautiful time. I want that, to be the land Cain and the child we have grow up in. Where they have grass to run on, rather than hard dirt and sand. And if they choose to nap in the sun, they can do so on soft ground."

His strive, to want the best for his small family, warms me inside. Even in the three years we spent together, and even though there was talk of procreation, I never got to see this side of him. For the first time, Charon has a woman and a son. He has people, who love him, and depend on him. I think in his eyes, it's the greatest job a man could ever have. Providing for people out of love and devotion, rather than a piece of paper.

"Charon?"

"Yeah?"

"You really like this family thing, don't you?'

"I never had one growing up. I never felt the warmth of a mother's touch, or learned lessons boys do from fathers. I am not a perfect example of a man, but I can try to be. I can try to give my children, the things I was never able to receive. I don't want Cain, or our next child, growing up without me. I want to teach them the things men learn, and I want you to nurture and care for them. If they are scared, I want them to come to me for protection, and you for comfort. When I was Cain's age, I was scared, and had no one to turn to. I don't want that for him. I don't wish the life I had, upon anyone, even if it was what made me survive."

On some mystic wavelength, I can relate to Charon. Even though my father was alive for my childhood, I didn't have him to turn to. When I was scared, I had no one to offer me comfort. My dad, if I went to him, most of the time would give me a scientific reason as to why my fears were unjustifiable. I was little then, but I knew already that things didn't exist. But I was still scared. Maybe, in a way, I was crying out for the attention and affection that no one ever gave me. Charon's right. I don't want Cain to grow up, and feel the way I did, or Charon did.

"Do you think we'll make good parents? I'm not too mature myself sometimes, and I worried about Zack a lot. But, babysitting your friend's kid, and having one your own, is two different things."

I ask as I sit up, and pull my knees to my chin. Charon sighs and rubs my back with his palm. It's sore, from the fighting, and scarred from the past. I can feel his fingers tracing the one that twists up and around my body. For my children, I don't want them to live the life I had to. I want them to enjoy it, to know how to survive and fight and to do it well, but I don't ever want them, to have to go through what I did. To watch a parent die, and to fight for a cause you no longer believed in.

"It'll be hard, and a challenge, but I think we can do it."

"If we have any enemies left, they'll be a target."

"Not if we keep them safe inside Megaton until they're ready."

Lighting another cigarette, I sigh and blow white smoke into the air. Charon lights his own cigarette and does the same.

"Gob's probably really worried."

I say aloud, to no one really, just to make some noise.

"He should understand our excursions by now."

"I think you should spend time with Zack, too. He misses you."

"I had every intention of doing so."

Suddenly feeling sad from nowhere, I turn around to look at Charon.

"Charon?"

He looks at me, through the smoke coming from his mouth. He looks at me, just like he did so many years ago. With eyes of soft kindness, of milky blue, and acceptance as my scars shimmer in the dim light of the moon streaming through the boarded windows.

"We'll be alright now, right? We won't…get separated again, will we?"

"No, Dezbe. I won't leave your side, unless you choose to leave mine."

I smirk a bit, turning around to face him. Sitting with my legs folded under me, I take his free hand in mine.

"I don't think that's possible. After all we've been through, the least we could do, is stay in love. I'd be a slap in the face to all our enemies watching us in hell."

Charon smiles at me, as I raise his hand to my cheek and close my eyes.

"When we met, Dez, I never expected this to come of our meeting. I never expected, so much to come from simply meeting a single person."

"The moon is full, you know. Just like when we first met."

"Yeah?"

"Can we go look at it?"

Charon nods, and without bothering to get dressed, or grab weapons, we stand up. Hand in hand, smoking cigarettes, we walk out the front door and stand with bare feet in the hard dirt. Looking up to the moon, with all the stars surrounding it, I remember the night Charon and I met. I remember, how he risked his life to save mine, when freedom was so close for him. Thinking of this, I squeeze his hand. If I had any scars worth showing, I wish that when he grabbed my wrist that night, it left a permanent mark. Then, I would always remember the tenderness. Remember, how even when things were against him, Charon always had a special place for me. I suppose, there's the scar above my heart, but…the night we first met…holds a certain place in my memories.

"I want to stay with you, like this, for as long as time lets us."

I tell him, still squeezing his hand, and staring at the moon above. There's tears in my eyes, because I'm happy, and it's been so long.

"What I said, back inside the vault, I didn't mean it. I never wanted to be with anyone else. I never…even thought about it. All I could think about was you. I just wanted to let you know that."

I say, continuing on. Tearing my eyes away from the moon, I stare up at him. His height, his strength, the way his muscles are perfectly curved, and how even though he's a ghoul, he's the most handsome man in the world, it all makes me want him more and more. Charon is a drug, and I hope there's no cure.

"I know, Dez. Don't worry. I know you well enough to know, that in anger, you say things you don't mean."

"Some things never change."

A cool breeze catches me, and I stand closer to Charon. He decides to guide me back in the house, and the door closes behind us. Sitting back down on our makeshift bed, we finish smoking our cigarettes in silence.

"Can I kiss you now?"

I ask him, missing the feel of a kiss that isn't depending on time. One that isn't bittersweet, or filled with longing goodbyes. I want to kiss Charon, like we used to kiss, so many times before.

"Of course."

I'm not sure what it is that night, that changes everything so much. Maybe it's for the first time, Charon's mind is free of all worry and concern. Or that perhaps, it's been five years since we've had a quiet moment. It could be, that for the first time in our lives together, Charon and I finally know peace without restraints.

Tender, soft, gentle, for the first time since we parted ways, Charon and I become one entire being. Our emotions, are unrestrained. Passion ensues, and soft kisses give silence to pleasurable sounds. Knowing, there's nothing waiting on us, there's no one after us, we take our time. I feel his skin against mine, for the first time it feels like. At first, it's painful and uncomfortable, from the lapse of time. Charon is gentle though, sensing change in my body, and makes sure to be extra careful. Even if he wasn't, I think I'd enjoy this just the same.

My hands dance around his back, and tickle his flesh. His breath warms my chilled skin, and his lips are soft in all the right places.

"I missed you."

I tell him quietly, toying with limp strands of his hair, and masking moans in breathy exhales.

"It's alright now."

He tells me in reply, trying to assure me. Assure me, that I'll never again feel alone. That the despair and anguish I felt for five years, will never plague me again. Because he'll never leave me, like he did. Because now, there's nothing out there left. No more past encounters, no more haunting memories. All there is, now, is us, and the life we choose to build.

"Charon…"

I say, as every movement causes a spark of light, a ray of hope. Hope, that we can truly begin anew. That our children, will walk this earth even when we're gone, and feel the peace and calm of mind that we were so robbed. Taking my arm from behind his head, Charon laces his fingers with mine, and kisses me as tension heightens. We squeeze one another's hands, the blankets tangle around us, and nothing else in this world matters. For a rare moment, all that matters is the two of us. All that either one of us cares about, is each other.

People spend their entire lives, searching for this. Some, never find it. They look, for someone to feel this love with. This love that everyone talks about, but few have ever felt or seen. A passion and bond so strong, that the wars of time and age can't break. A love, that blooms against unfathomable odds, and stays strong even after the world as we know it ends. A miracle, some people would call it. Soul mates, true loves, whatever you prefer. I don't call it any of that. I call it, luck, and I name it Charon. It was by chance we met, and by chance and indescribable feelings that we remained together.

Neither one of us, thought we needed someone. We believed, alone is better, and emotions are primitive things. But, neither one of us, saw the other coming. If you had told me all this would happen, in the first few days I left the vault, I would have laughed in your face. Because back then, I didn't think anyone would want to love me. I didn't think, that I was worth the love of another, if I wasn't even worth the love of my parents. And yet, Charon was the same way. Never feeling as a person, Charon thought that he was no more than an artifact. Someone to display for a time, and then quickly pass on to another when they were done with it. He didn't think, anyone would want him. I didn't think I would want anyone. And yet…here we are, making the definition and description of want null and void. There's no words, to describe the wanting we feel to one another, and it puts everything else to shame.

Opening my eyes, I squeeze Charon's hand, as he runs his fingers through my hair.

"I…"

I whisper, before closing my eyes once again. Kissing my forehead, Charon movements and touch ignite the peak within ourselves. Reaching up, I kiss him, as the last breath leaves me, and my legs fall numb. The tingling euphoric sensation engulfs me, and I'd fall forever, but, Charon's there to help me.

"I love you."

I whisper as our mouths part just enough to speak. Without much effort, Charon wraps his arms around me, both our bodies drenched in passion and sweat. He rolls over on his back, pulling me with him, and holding me close.

"I love you, too, Dezbe."

Exhausted, exhilarated, numb, Charon and I cling to one another in the darkness.

"This is our life now, Charon."

"What do you mean?"

"It's not anything, what it was before. New feelings, new sense of peace, new moments of passion. It feels like a dream, but it isn't. We're free, truly free, for the first time in our lives."

"Because we have made all the mistakes, we can possibly make, and fought all the people there are to fight."

"I think…we're going to do okay."

I lift my head, and smile at Charon. This is the smile, I was never able to show before. Because in the past, even when things were great, there was still a linger of danger and worry. Now, there's none of that. For the first time, I can smile, and have confidence in it. Looking at me intently, Charon lifts his hand and his thumb grazes the scar near my temple.

"This is my favorite one."

He tells me, and I raise an eyebrow.

"Why?"

"Because even when you lost yourself, you trusted me. You had no memory, or recollection, and still, you stayed by me, followed me, and believed me. It told me, that I truly meant as much to you, as your silence told me."

"That's exactly how I felt, when even under contract you wouldn't hurt me."

Charon kisses me again, and I fall against his chest. Shivering a bit, as the heat from my body begins to leave and the sweat on me cools me down a bit too much, I kick up one of the blankets. Sitting up, Charon grabs it, and we wrap ourselves in it.

"Can we sleep now?"

I ask him, pressing my head into the nook of his arm and chest.

"Yeah. We can sleep now."

"And if someone comes?"

"For the first time…we don't have to worry about that."

And he's right. We don't.


	45. Every Dream, is of You and Me

The G.E.C.K proves to be worth its effort. Over the next year, both Megaton, and our lives, undergo significant changes. With the power of the G.E.C.K, the dirt that was hardened and rough becomes soft, fertile soil. Its chemicals spread over time, and eventually the walls of Megaton are able to be deconstructed. The extra steel and supplies from it were used to build better homes, as most of the people stayed within the crater. Some of the citizens venture out of the crater to help expand the growing town, and before anyone realized it, Megaton became one of the most profitable trade places in the Capital Wasteland.

With knowledge of farming and how-to from pre-war, Charon taught us all what we needed to do. Jobs were appointed, making more work available to those struggling for caps. The job didn't suit Charon, though, and was eventually passed on to the now-retired Lucas Simms. He and those appointed and approved for farming crops nurse a small garden. One rich with vegetables, and plants, that the Capital Wasteland never saw before. Brahmin were brought in, both to help farm and to sustain the land. Charon believes soon, the entire land will have grass and soil as the land of Megaton does, but it'll take time.

Radiation is almost extinct now in this area. Since some of us, myself, Charon, Gob and Zack, sort of need it as a medical survival, Gob's taken it upon himself to filter the pure water into irradiated water. We keep small amounts in water bottles, feeling confident that we'll always have it when needed. Although it's nice to drink a bottle of irradiated water, and feel warm from the inside out on cold nights, we have to ration it. Gob has yet to figure out an easily assessable way to make radiation, so to speak, so until then our source of it is limited. The puddle that held the bomb turned pure, when the G.E.C.K's abilities stretched out and grew. Gob and Charon ended up removing the bomb itself, and using it they constructed a play area for the kids that were increasing with incoming families.

Using the designs from pre-war playgrounds, and steel from them, the kids here finally have a place to enjoy. Hollowing out the bomb, Charon and Gob used the shell to create a sort of club-house. With half of it buried, there's a hole in the other half that allows kids to squeeze in and out. It's one of Cain's favorite things, and he brags to all the other kids that his father made it for him.

Businesses have sprung up around here, too. There's still the Brass Lantern, the saloon, and Gob's Craterside Supply, but now there's a stand to purchase vegetables that we grow. Outsiders have to pay a small cap price per vegetable and pound, but the citizens get them for almost nothing. Not wanting to be like a pre-war business, Charon makes sure everyone abides by these regulations. It's part of his unofficial duty, as sheriff of Megaton. Vegetables are also open to free trade, as well as what they're being traded for is of more or equal value. There isn't a shortage of food, but it's a precautionary thing. We all know we can survive without, but having them is a privilege we want to hold on to as long as we can.

Since Megaton has become equal in popularity as Rivet City, but lack the defenses, it's prone to attack by Raiders and outsiders. Rouge gangs are starting to sprout up, and I compare them to the gangs that litter the West Cost. At first, we were wry and concerned that the increasing attacks on Megaton would destroy the then early stages of the G.E.C.K's work, but Simms made a wise choice. Knowing his age comes with limited abilities, he personally sought out Charon and they had a meeting with one another. Simms knows of Charon's past, somewhat, but above all knew of his training and somewhat military background. Without any formal ceremony, Charon was given the job as sheriff as Simms humbly stepped down.

Soon after, we were hit hard with Raiders. With Cain now in our small family, Charon took the attack personally. It reminded Simms of how in the past, he too defended Megaton against a clan of Raiders. Although, he admits, his battle was nothing compared to what Charon had pulled. Not one Raider was left alive, in the wake of Charon fighting. I wasn't allowed to join, because Charon wanted me to protect Cain if anything happened. Gob instead took my place, alongside Zack and a few other young men of Megaton. It took us two days, to clean up the mess left in Charon's wake. It simply proved to any skeptics, that Charon was beyond perfect for the job. As safe as we are here, and as protected as we are with Charon in charge, we still all sleep with guns to the ready. We have a slice of paradise here, and we want to keep it.

Right now, I'm standing at the edge of the park, watching the handful of kids run, laugh and play. This is something no generation has had in the past. The privilege to play in an area, carefree without any restraints. Cain plays alongside them, his pale skin tanned from the warm sun, and his face smiling bright. It brings a warm smile to my face, to watch him. It also makes me feel strange inside, to know that Charon once looked like this, so many centuries ago.

"Hey."

I hear Charon's voice behind me, and I turn around. We've moved into Simms' old house, since he no longer needed the sniping perch. He and Harden built their own home together, with the metal from the walls that once stood where I stand.

"Hey."

Smiling at him, I take his hand in mine. Charon looks at me, and rests his free hand on my rounding stomach. I have to get some of my pre-war clothes altered to fit me soon. Since I don't travel much outside the town, I took to wearing pre-war dresses that most of the traders have when they come through here. Dirty, somewhat ripped, and faded they fit the place I'm at in my life. Not yet domestic, but looking slightly the part, and still showing the fight I have inside. My scars show proudly through my pre-war spring outfit, a white dress with pink sash, and I'm not ashamed to show them anymore.

"How've you been?"

I rest my hand on top of Charon's, as we feel movement inside. It's the first time, and I get excited.

"Ah! Did you feel that? Shit! Shit!"

Charon laughs as I freak out and place both his hands where I feel the kicking. From inside, it's a strange and uncomfortable feeling, but I love it. For a while, we were scared it wouldn't work. Scared my body might have been a bit too damaged, or something would have caused death inside. This is a sign, we were wrong.

"Calm down, I felt it."

Charon says, calm, hiding his excitement. His hands wander around, and he feels the kicking again just as I do.

"Cain! Cain! Come here!"

I call to Cain and he happily comes over.

"What is it, mom?"

"Here, feel."

I put his hand on my stomach, and for a minute feel like a circus freak with everyone touching me. But I wipe that thought from my mind, when Cain smiles as he feels it.

"It's alive!"

He squeals, and Charon and I laugh.

"Yeah, it is."

We don't know the sex of our baby, and we won't until it's born. For now, we call it 'The Mutant'. At least, I do. I mean that in the nicest way possible, too.

"Have you thought of a name?"

Charon asks as all hands fall from my stomach as the kicking stops. I get to name it if it's a girl, and Charon picks the name for a boy.

"Yup. Thought of it this morning."  
"And?"

"And, I thought that since I have a strange name, why not give her the same?"

"Do I want to hear this?"

"Dizzy."

Charon looks at me, while Cain laughs.

"I like it!"

Cain says before running back to play. Charon sighs, and looks at me.

"You want to name it Dizzy?"

"Yeah because Dizzy sounds like Dezbe and they're both weird names."  
"Why not something normal? Like Emily or Sue?"

"Those names are retarded. No. I want Dizzy. She's going to be just like me."

"Think about that, Dezbe."

"I did. She's going to be just like me."

Fear spreads on Charon's face as he sits down on the grass. I sit beside him, struggling a bit with the added weight to my body. I'm about twenty weeks along now, and with my small frame my stomach looks like a blimp. Even though it's really not that big, I say it is.

"Just like you, huh?"

"Yeah. She'll be brave, and smart, and not take shit from anyone."

"Alright, fair enough. I picked the name for a boy."

"What is it?"

"Dante."

"Dante?"

"Dante was a man from ancient times, who wrote a book on the excursions of Underworld. Or rather, Hell. In it, mentions Charon, then pronounced Karon. It means obstinate."

"So…you want to name our possible future son a stubborn jackass, basically?"

"Hey, it ties me to him."

"You're tied to him in DNA, Charon. Dante is a stupid name."

"So isn't Dizzy."

"No, Dizzy is cute. She will be cute."

Charon laughs and shakes his head. I smile at him, and soon we're joined by Gob. There's a lot to smile about these days.

"Whoa, you're getting big."

He says as he sits down, and hands me a bottle of irradiated water. He gives Charon one too, and the three of us sit around in merriment.

"Yeah, it's kicking. The Mutant lives!"

Gob raises his hand, and gives me a look. I nod, and guide his hand to the corner of my stomach.

"Here, feel."

"Wow…wow…this brings back memories."

Gob says, smiling and glowing. With a new baby on the way, there's excitement and joy to spare. Gob gets another nephew or niece, and Zack gets another plaything. Even though Zack is older by sixteen, soon to be seventeen, years, he takes special pride in watching over Cain when Charon and I want a night alone.

"Dez wants to name her Dizzy if it's a girl."

Charon says, and Gob laughs as he takes his hand away.

"It's cute. Reminds me of the mother."

"Yeah see. I _told_ Charon that but he was all stupid about it. I want her to be just like me."

"…Sure about that?"

Gob asks, and I raise an eyebrow.

"I wasn't _that_ bad, guys."

"What the hell kind of life do you remember? I remember a half-naked cynic running around blowing shit up."

"That's exactly what I want her to be, Gob. With Charon and I as parents, you can't expect this kid to be normal."

"Dad! Dad! Dad!"

Our laughter is broken by the sound of Cain's shrill cry. I know by instinct that when Cain calls for Charon like that, it's because something happened. The three of us stand up, and Charon puts on his 'you better not fuck with my kid' face.

"What is it?"

Charon asks as Cain comes over. He looks scared, and fearful of something.

"Erin said…she said that she saw…_bad guys_!"

We all look around, but see nothing. Bending down I pick up Cain, passing this off as a childish rumor. Charon takes it to heart.

"Where?"

He asks, looking. A few months ago Raiders attacked Megaton at night. They used stealth to infiltrate the town, and Cain and I were put into dire danger. A new scar was added to my collection, along with a ripped dress and a trip to Doc Church. We almost lost the baby, because of the strain of the fight I put up to protect Cain, and the gash that graced me from chest down. Even though it didn't cut deep down my stomach, the blood loss was enough to cause worry. Charon wasn't there, because he was busy fighting on the other side of town. When he heard the news…I shudder remembering how he became.

"She said she heard from her mom that they were coming soon!"

Erin's mother is an ex-Raider, and someone Charon sees as a problem. He'll give anyone a chance here, but only trust them if they prove themselves. All Erin's mother has done is prove herself useless with her drug addiction and attraction to mercenaries and other Raider boys. She brings trouble, but it's nothing Charon can't handle.

"Take Cain home. I'll meet you there."

Although there's a lingering fear, I know deep down today will end just like the rest of the good days. Charon won't lay hands on a woman, but Erin fears me as I've gone head-to-head with some of her partners in the past. Even in my state, when I put on armor of any sort, people move aside. It's no secret anymore, who Charon and I are among the people here. New and old, now respect us and have our backs in trouble. I may be in no condition to fight, but in my place are a few young women who've followed my story and hold me in high regard. They come to the house to talk with me, and ask about my life in the Wasteland. They protect me unofficially, because of who I am, the state I'm in, and because I think a few of them like Charon. But, they know Charon is mine and mine alone, and there's no issues of trust.

"Alright. What do you want for dinner?"

"Please don't try to cook tonight."

I laugh at Charon's comment as he begins to walk towards Erin's home.

"Come on, I'll walk you back."

Gob offers and I take it. Holding Cain's hand, the three of us start the uphill walk to our house.

"Gotta say, he's the best damn sheriff this place has had. Simms couldn't do it without the walls, and here Charon is with more things to lose, no walls, and keeping everything in line."

"Because he runs this place with respect, instead of fear."

"Simms wasn't feared."

"No, but he had hardly the respect Charon has."

Sighing, Gob ruffles my hair like he used to in the past.

"You and him both made names for yourselves. Everyone out here thinks twice now before fuckin' with you two. Especially since you got kids. Ain't never seen that man so damned protective of anything. Except you, that is."

"Charon finally has things to lose now, Gob. When he had only me, we both knew we'd be there in the end. With a family, it's different."

"I know exactly what you mean."

By the time Charon comes back, it's close to Cain's bedtime. I always lock the door at night, since our house is directly facing the Capital Wasteland. I'm entertaining Cain by showing him how to work his new BB Gun, when I hear the lock and key turning.

"Daddy's home."

I tell Cain, and he forgets all the safety rules I just taught him, and runs excitedly into the kitchen to greet Charon, gun in hand.

"Dad! Dad! Dad!"

Using the living room table to help myself up, I smile at what I see through the kitchen/living room passage. Cain happily shows Charon his new gun, and Charon acts all sorts of impressed and I think honestly he's a bit proud. Now that Cain has a weapon of sorts, he can start to show him how to shoot. At night, you know, when we tuck him in, he thanks us for getting him out of the facility. He says life now, is better than life before. Honestly, though, I think we should thank him. Without him in our lives now, without him to care for and protect, I don't think Charon and I would have blossomed into the responsible couple we are now. We would have kept our wanderlust and selfish tendencies, ultimately wandering the Wasteland in search of our own deaths. Having Cain, prevents us from doing that.

"Did you find anything?"

I ask Charon as I hobble into the kitchen. We have some squirrel stew in the fridge, and I take it out to heat up. Charon stands up and lights a cigarette, and hungrily I reach for it.

"Gimmie!"

"You can't smoke."

"The radiation will fix everything, come on."

Reluctantly he lets me have one. I'm right, though. With both Charon and myself resistant to radiation, the child growing inside will be too. Smoking won't have a large effect on it, if any. If it does at some point, I'll fix it with radiation.

"Well, Erin wasn't lying. Her mother had invited some old Raider members to Megaton. She claims they've gone rouge and left, like she did, but I said I'd kill them on sight anyways."

"Isn't that a bit harsh, Charon? What if she's telling the truth?"

Getting the stew off of the stove I put it in bowls. Cain and Charon sit around the table, and I struggle to get in my seat. The weight gain on my stomach is so sudden, I'm having a hard time adjusting.

"It doesn't matter. There are families here I won't put at risk."

"You mean _your_ family is here, right?"

"Exactly. I won't have my family being at risk. I'd be more lenient if you weren't with child, but you are. You're in no shape to defend yourself."

Smoking my cigarette, I pick at my stew. Charon's right. Since the last fight with Raiders he's been overprotective. I can see why, and I'm not mad at him for it, I just hope his love and want to keep us safe doesn't blur into his duties as sheriff. He makes decent caps. No, not from taxation or anything like that, but really from the Raiders. He gets to keep whatever caps they have on them, while the townsfolk keep everything else. Most of our income comes from trading and whatnot. Charon doesn't want to be paid by the citizens for his job. He says it reminds him too much of pre-war. Like me, he believes if you love a land you should defend it because you want to, not because you're being paid to.

"Dad? Hey, dad?"

"Hm?"

"Why do people want to take our town? We didn't do nothing to them."  
"Because they're bad people."

"Are you bad for killing them?"

"No."

"But it's a life, right? And killing isn't bad."

Cain has a tendency to question a lot of things. Normal, seeing as how growing up he didn't learn right from wrong, only doing what was told. Even though he only spent five years there, in those five years he was a sponge. He absorbed everything they taught him, and we've been trying to help him relearn everything.

"Killing is bad only if you do it to innocent people. The ones who come here with guns and attack you and your mother are bad. I am good for keeping you safe, but I would be bad if I killed…say…Erin. Understand?"

"Kind of."

He eats a few more spoonfuls of his soup in thoughtful silence. Charon looks at me, and I look at my belly.

"My heart burns. Is this normal?"

Charon shrugs, and I wince in pain. Burping, it feels like I'm breathing fire.

"This sucks."

"Go to the doctor tomorrow."

"I feel fine now."

We know nothing of pregnancy, what to expect, and how to deal with it. It's the blind leading the insane in this one, and I'm the insane.

"Mom? When is the baby coming?"

"Few more months."

"Why so long?"

"Well, it has to cook."

Fearful, his eyes grow wide and he stares at me like I've just done something horrible.

"You're putting it in the oven?"

Charon and I burst out in hysterical laughter. Cain doesn't see the humor in it, and starts to get angry.  
"Mom! That's not funny!"

"What I meant was is the baby still has to grow. It isn't done growing."

"Oh."

"Wonder how baby tastes?"

Charon says and I glare at him.

"Shut up."

After we're finished, Cain has an hour to play before going to bed. Within that hour, Charon shows him how to clean and maintain his BB Gun, expressing the importance of this for later in life. Cain listens intently. Rightfully so he's closer to Charon than he is to me. I don't mind that, because the two of them need one another. I've never see Charon act this way, though. He always has a glow about him, and when he carries Cain on his shoulders through the town, it's almost a picture-perfect moment.

"Bedtime."

I say to them, and Cain pouts.

"Come on, mom, five more minutes?"

"Nope, you know the rules."

I only give Cain extra time when he does good things throughout the day. Like cleaning his room, helping with dinner, small things. He knows this, and doesn't complain when I don't let up. I never thought I'd be this maternal. I'm sure after my pregnancy is over, I'll resort back to some immature ways. To an extent, anyways. I didn't know having children, could change someone so much.

Charon carries Cain up the steps to his bedroom, and I follow behind. Getting him into bed, I place his BB Gun on a shelf. Last thing I want is for him to play with it while we're sleeping, and shoot his eye out.

"Mom? Dad?"

Charon and I look at him while he clutches a teddy bear Charon found him when we were first returning to Megaton.

"Yeah?"

I reply, standing in the doorway with Charon.

"Can you guys tell me a story? I was talking to Harden, and he says you guys have a lot of stories. He said you two were big adventurers."

Making a mental note to talk to Harden about keeping out of my goddamned business, and keeping it away from my kid, I look at Charon. Do we really have any age-appropriate tales? Charon shrugs, and goes to sit on Cain's bed. I follow lead and sit beside him.

"Well, uhm…let's think of one."

Charon says, looking at me. I shrug because honestly I don't know what to tell Cain.

"Harden said you fought bad guys all the time."

"Maybe Harden needs to mind his own damned business."

That's the mother Yao Gui in me. She comes out when other people meddle in my family affairs. Cain is too young to know about me and Charon. If he were say, sixteen, I'd tell him everything. But he's nearing six. Too young to hear about all the death, destruction, and chaos that Charon and I went through and caused.

"Your mother is right, Cain. You're too young to hear any of the stories we have to share. When you grow up a bit, we'll tell you."

"But Harden said that mom ran around killing people."

Getting angry, I glare at Charon.

"I'll talk to Lucas tomorrow, calm down."

"No, I don't want my children thinking I was a homicidal maniac."

"You sort of were. But okay! Okay."

"Harden said…that you helped a lot of ghouls once."

Cain's been raised without prejudice. He knows what a ghoul is, and that they're different from other people, but in the end they're the same on the inside. Sharing a look with Charon, we silently decide to tell him about Tenpenny Tower, but only the good parts. Leaving out the blood, gore, and my memory loss at the time. For the most part, he listens with wide-eyes and innocent curiosity. At some parts, he gets excited and lets out a small gasp or cheer. Charon and I laugh at this. Before we can finish telling the story, Cain falls asleep. Quietly, Charon and I turn out his light, and sneak out of the room.

Heading back downstairs for some alone time, I get some Nuka-Cola from the fridge for us to share.

"Harden needs to not tell a six-year-old what his parents did."

I say, sitting down in the living room. It's exhausting, walking around with this belly. Taking off the top half of his armor, Charon tosses it to the ground and sits next to me.

"It beats him going into detail, like Three Dog."

"Still."

"What's with you these days? You become quite domestic."

I look at Charon, with wide eyes and a hand on my stomach.

"Because we have a lot to lose now. Before, we didn't have much. Now, there's Cain and another on the way. I can't run around being reckless when there's a high risk of losing the baby. We'd have to take a trip to Rivet City to try again, if we even wanted to after that. I've seen how mothers are, when they lose a child. I don't…want to feel that way."

Putting his arm around me, Charon hugs my shoulders.

"There's nothing wrong with that, Dezbe. I'm sure everything will go back to normal when the baby is born. You can be slightly more reckless then, and not worry."

"I know, it's not me I'm worried about."

"Wasn't Nova ready to deliver Zack when you brought her to Underworld?"

"Yeah, why?"

"If she can walk across the Capital Wasteland, exposed to the elements, that pregnant, then I'm sure you have nothing to worry about."

"Nova's body wasn't as damaged as mine."

Charon runs his fingers along my arm, tracing old scars and remembering old times.

"It just makes you smarter and stronger."

"Think we'll be okay? I mean, with this whole parenting thing. I don't want to raise future Raiders."

"Didn't you want to be a Raider?"

"I still do, don't get me wrong. Running around half-naked playing shoot-em-up all the time sounds like a blast even now, but, it's not something I want for my kids."

Charon smiles, and kisses my head.

"Why, Dezbe, I think you've matured."

"Can it, ghoul-face. You wanted this so don't give me shit."

"Didn't you want it, too."

I hide a smile, as I stare at the bottle in my hand.

"Yeah. I did."


	46. Everything's Magic

(Charon)

Life these days, is near perfection. Dez and I, no longer fear the things we once did. No longer have minds set in dangerous zones, or even feel the need to leave Megaton. With all we need at our literal disposal, and only the few occurring Raider attacks to bring us worry, we've created a near-blissful life with one another. Something, I never imagined I would have, in all my years of existence.

Cain grows stronger every day, and every day I am reminded that I was him once. He is my exact copy, and seeing myself as a child again, although my childhood was nothing to smile about, warms my heart. I presume it's because, in a way, I am living through him. His laughter, his happiness, soothes the child within myself. The one that was never able to go and play, to run and be free, as children are supposed to do. I take special care with him, watching him even if he thinks he's alone. He calls me 'dad' now, something that took me a while to get use to. Never, did I think I'd be anyone's father, or another's for that matter.

Talk about a family was done in the past, but it was never acted upon. Having Dez as pregnant as she is, and Cain in my life, makes me realize how quickly life goes and how easily attainable some dreams are. Going to hell and back like Dez and I did with one another, is a small price to pay for the happiness and gratitude I have now. A woman, a child, another soon to be born, a job, food and a large home. In pre-war, this is the ideal life. Now, it seems to be the same. My family can survive, Dez and I are both strong people, so even if we had no Megaton to call home, or shelter to share, I have confidence in our abilities to survive in the Wasteland. That's the sole difference, between the ideal life of pre-war, to the ideal life now. Being in a surviving family, is something most people are robbed of.

Perhaps that is why I take special care in guarding Megaton. Even if the G.E.C.K had proved faulty, I would still protect it as I do now. Envisioning a safe place, to raise my family, and to give others the same joy, is something I wanted. With the newcomers, Cain has many playmates, and families are able to stay together. Men and women no longer have to leave to find caps or food, and because of that, there has been an increase in couplings in Megaton. I like to think, that although I am doing this for the betterment of my own family, those who have come to live here are thankful for our efforts. The people who once berated Dezbe and I, are now loyal friends and defendants of us and this town. They see now, that from the very beginning, Dez and myself were not against this world. Only, certain people in it.

It's a hot day, as most days are. I am walking around, making sure people are not swindling traders out of caps or stealing from the crops. Dez is up in Doc Church's, due to her increasing pregnancy. She is close to giving birth, and since her mother died of cardiac arrest during her birthing process, we decided it would be safer to monitor her carefully as she grew larger. I'll admit, though, there was humor seeing her hobble around with a belly that large. She didn't think it was funny, but Cain and I did.

"Charon?"

One of Dez's friends calls my name, and I turn around. It's Amy, a blonde-haired blue-eyed girl that had taken a liking to Dez and her story.

"What is it?"

Usually when people talk to me, it's about safety issues or trading affairs.

"How's Dez doing?"

"She is doing fine. Dr. Church is watching her."

"And Cain?"

"He's staying with Zack and Gob until his mother is out of the hospital."

The conversation dies, but Amy still stands beside me. I look down at her, wondering what else she may need.

"I've been meaning to ask you something."

Folding my arms, I narrow my eyes at her. I've suspected an ulterior motive to her wanting to be friends with Dezbe, other than admiration. I just cannot figure what it could be.

"Yes?"

Nervous, I notice she plays with her hands and avoids eye contact.

"Do you think…do you think you'd let someone live here, who was a Raider?"

"Absolutely not."

"You see, it's just…I really like him and…"

Amy is young. She is about eighteen, and more naïve than Dezbe once was at that age. And Dezbe was still in the confines of the vault then.

"No. It'll be putting the citizens at high risk for attack. I refuse to risk it."

"But you let Lydia live here."

Lydia is an ex-Raider. Mother to Erin, Cain's favorite playmate.

"Erin disbanded from the Raiders and has yet to prove herself here. She is allowed to stay because of Erin. I will not harbor a boy who is still running wild with a gang of Raiders."

"But what if he promises to not do anything?"

"No. It is too much of a risk. They are our worst threat, and I would like to keep it that way. I do not want to risk families who have come here looking for security, because a foolish girl has a tendency to be attracted to rebellious boys."

Amy's face turns to a mixture of pain and anger. It bothers me to shoot down her offer. Stupid as she is, her emotions are pure. This boy she talks of will only use her, and I feel sorry for her. In a sense, she reminds me of Dezbe. Clueless with emotions and reckless as well with them. Still, it is of no use. My decision is final, and Amy will move on and find another boy to care for.

Without any more words, she walks away from me. Her eyes were filling with tears. I hope she knows and understands my stance, and if not now than she will in due time.

"Charon! Charon! Charon!"

Hearing my name being called so frantically causes me to reach for the gun on my back. People around me stare, a bit frozen. I only set my gun back when I notice Zack running wildly across the property, beginning from Doc Church's.

"What is it?"

I ask, worried that something may have happened to Dez. He stops to catch his breath, bending over on his knees.

"It…it's…go!"

He points to Doc Church's, and it hits me. Dezbe is ready, and the baby will come with or without my presence. Not saying anything in reply, I take off running. Fueled by excitement, joy, and worry, I push past people who stand in my way. They're fully aware of Dez's condition and know I could only be running there for one of two things. Either the baby is being born, or Dez is injured. I hope they know, it's the better of the two.

Bursting into Doc Church's office, I'm greeted by cries of pain. Confused, I look around. I do not know if this is part of the birthing process, because I have never before seen it, and know little of it. Gob stands by Dez's bedside, his face contorted in pain, as she clings to his hand. Doc Church sits on a stool in front of Dez's wide-spread legs. I'm angered at this for a minute, but then realize he is a doctor and this is what doctors do.

"Charon! Get _over_ here!"

Gob calls, and I look at him.

"It fucking _hurts!_"

Dez screams loudly, and I pace over. Ripping his hand free, Gob moves away. Because he was doing it, I assume I'm to do the same, and I let Dez take hold of my hand while I stare at her. She's covered in sweat, and her face is red. I'm met with excruciating pain, of her gripping and squeezing my fingers at full force. I want to pull away, but then I realize…this is probably nothing compared to what's happening to her.

"Charon!"

She yells, and I look at her.  
"Relax it's alright. Breathe, Dezbe."

Church told us breathing was an important part, and I feel a bit useful in this high-stress environment by reminding her of that.

"You did this! You did this!"

She yells at me, and I'm a bit taken aback by it.

"Push, Dezbe, push!"

"I am _fucking pushing_!"

Cautiously, I peer down to view what Church can view. In shock I have to look away, and stare at Dez. Gob howls with laughter in the background. I'm sure to anyone watching, like Gob is, this is a comedic scene. A trained killer turning his head away from the natural process of childbirth. I'd never seen anything like it before, and had no idea that it came from…well, that it happened this way.

"Where'd you think it was coming out of?"

Gob remarks, howling, and Dez jumps to defend me before I can say anything.

"_Shut up! Shut up! You're fucking stupid!"_

"Stop yelling and push, Dezbe. If you don't the baby could be in danger."

"_I'm fucking pushing_!"

She holds my hand tighter, as she holds her breath.

"Gob, get me cloths, and lots of them."

Church yells to Gob, and then, it hits me. Right now, I'm standing in a makeshift three-room hospital, watching the woman who changed my life give birth to the child that will also change my life. It seems like life has passed by so quickly. That only yesterday, I was released from the facility for the first time, and given my first employer. Now, against everything I was ever trained to be, I'm in a moment most celebrated by normal men around the world. Did Gob feel this way, when Nova was birthing Zack? Did he too feel the sudden rush of surprise and stillness inside, knowing soon a part of him would forever be in this world? It seems, everything I've done in my life alongside Dezbe has led me to this place. It feels strangely right. As if, all along, this was meant to be.

Gob returns to Church with cloths. Quickly, Church grabs the cloths and wraps his hands in them.

"Help clean up some of the blood, and check her IV, make sure she's getting enough radiation."

Blood, I'm guessing, is common in these situations. Church doesn't seem to be too concerned, and neither does Gob. He cleans off areas he can, and makes sure the IV of radiation in Dez's arm is working properly.

"Almost there, one more push."

"_You said that twenty minutes ago!"_

Before anyone can say anything else, the room is filled with something. It's loud, obnoxious to anyone else, but…when I hear it, I nearly want to cry tears of joy. We all grow silent, as the baby makes it's first cries of life. Inside, I'm bursting, and Dez's grip on my hand lightens. Eagerly, we watch Church as he cleans off the baby, cuts something strange, and wraps it in clean cloths. Looking up as Dez lets her tired legs fall from makeshift straddles, he smiles at us.

"It's a girl."

He says, before placing the baby on Dez's chest. Instantly, as if she knows, the baby stops crying. Dez's hand leaves mine, and we gather around to look. Dez looks up at me, this time crying tears of happy, rather than tears of pain.

"Look…"

She says, pointing to the baby. I stare at her, the baby, whimsically as if this is all a dream. If it is, I hope no one ever wakes me. Staring back at me, are round, beautiful gray eyes. By their shape, I can tell she has my eyes, and seeing my features in another being that I helped create…brings unimaginable joy inside of me. Slowly, Dez begins to unravel the cloth, and together we count all ten fingers and all ten toes. She has my lips, and my ears. Dez's nose, and a plump of smooth, dark hair atop her head.

"Charon…"

"She's beautiful, guys, really."

Gob says, wiping a tear from his eye. I look up at him, and smile.

"Yeah. Yeah…"

"Mind her head now, Dez."

Gob begins to explain to us the basics. How to hold her, how to feed her, and that her eye color will soon develop. Although I'm listening, I can't help but keep my eyes focused on the baby. On how she waves her hands and kicks, making small noises and looking around.

"She can't see too well yet, but she knows your voices. They can hear inside the womb. That's why she went quiet when Church gave her to Dez. She knows her mom's heartbeat."

"Dizzy…"

Dez says, naming the baby instantly. A bit scared, I extend a finger to Dizzy, and she grabs hold of it.

"She's got a grip."

"Her father's, I'm sure."

Gob and Church leave us alone. I'm thankful for that. I have a child. I have a daughter. One made by both Dezbe and I together. She's perfect, beautiful, and bit wrinkly.

"She sort of has Deathclaw skin…"

Dez states, and I start to laugh. Curious, we poke at and examine the new child we have no idea how to raise. We were lucky with Cain, and received him when at least he could speak. Now, we're raising a child who without us for a moment, with certainly die. The beauty of this, outweighs the responsibility and worry.

"I think, Dizzy wants to be held by her daddy. Don't you?"

Before I can protest, Dez reaches up to me and hands me the baby.

"Mind her head, Charon."

I had no idea, humans came this small. She fits perfectly into both my unfolded hands. Like she was made to be held by me. Dizzy makes a small squeak-like sound, but doesn't cry when I bring her close. Instead, her hands and feet flail a bit, as her eyes dart around. She's alive. She's been inside Dez all this time, living, but I couldn't comprehend that she would actually one day be here, until now. I hold her close to me, and feel her soft, undamaged skin against my bare hands. She can't see well, but I know she sees me.

"She has my butt, look!"

Dezbe takes the cloth wrapped around her and pulls it away. I'm left holding a naked child, and Dez curiously points and pokes at her bottom. Turning her around, I laugh.

"That she does."

"And your belly button."

"How do you know that?"

"Because it has the same swirly as yours. Mine doesn't swirly on the inside."

"Right…"

She's right, though. Every inch of this child, is made up of exactly one half of us. Resistant to radiation, human by face, Dizzy is a replica of both her parents into one. She'll have my strength, and her mother's emotional endurance. Hopefully her mother's wit, and my sense of humor. Dez's humor is a bit vulgar, and I don't want to hear my daughter saying it. My daughter. It sounds strange, saying that.

"She has my perfect feet."

Dez moves aside, wincing a bit from the aftermath of the pain. I sit beside her, and stare at the naked baby.

"She does have your feet, Dez. My ears and mouth, though. And eyes."

"I wanted her to have your eyes."

"Why?"

"Because with your eyes, and my mother's dark hair, she'll be the most beautiful woman in all the Capital Wasteland. You'll have to beat men away with a stick."

"If I let her out of the house."

I realize then, the difference in raising a boy and a girl. With Cain, I know I can act more freely and let him do as he does. He'll be safe, because he is a man and will be strong one day. With a girl, it is entirely different. There will be men who want to hurt her, boys who'll want to toy with her, and dangers lurking around every corner. A serious expression rests on my face, and Dez knows exactly what I'm thinking.

"You won't have to worry, Charon. With us as parents, everyone will be too scared to fuck with her."

Is this what my mother felt, when she held me in her arms the first time? I understand now, what Dez tried telling me so many months ago. It's impossible, for a parent to hate their child. At least, when they're born. The love and joy that comes with welcoming a miracle of life into the world, cannot be compared to anything else. It is an instant feeling of affection, for something you've never seen before, but is yours entirely. I hold Dizzy close against my armor, as she stares at nothing and makes her noises. I did not carry her as Dez did, but I love her instantly just the same.

"Just so you know this is it. I'm not going through that again. My vagina is gonna take weeks to recover from this."

I smirk at Dez as she finally returns to her old self. Without the worry of another life inside her, a weight has been lifted on her shoulders. Being able to see Dizzy now gives us a sense of security we didn't have when she was hidden inside. We know she's alive now, when whilst Dez was pregnant, it was touch-and-go. Because of this, Dez calms herself, and returns to the sarcastic and witty being I came to love.

"Two is enough for me. A boy, and a girl."

"She needs a big brother, too. And since Cain is going to match you in size and strength, I don't think we have to worry about her being in any danger. Even if she is just like me."

"What do you mean?"

"Cain is you, Charon. He'll have somewhat of the same personality traits. Having Dizzy around will give him a sense of responsibility. He'll protect her, like you protect me. Love her, care about her, keep her warm on cold nights…I don't think we could have asked for a better son, or father. Dizzy has absolutely nothing to worry about."

"Except perhaps, her mother stealing her clothing."

"If my stomach ever goes back the way it was! I'm going to need a Wasteland adventure to even get close to my perfect body."

"You hardly gained weight."

"Imperfect!"

Dez flops down on the pillows behind her, and Dizzy begins to cry. I panic, and stare at Dez.

"What do I do?"

For a minute, Dez is in a trance. She listens to Dizzy cry and watches her kick in my arms. Is she hurting?

"She's hungry."

"How do you know that?"

"I just do. Here, let me see."

Dez begins to feed her, and the process is amazing. Women have breasts for a reason, I just never really thought of it that way. I knew their purpose, but knowing and seeing are two different things entirely. Dez smiles at me, as Dizzy drinks.

"It feels funny."

"Does it hurt?"

"No, but it doesn't feel good, either."

"Do we have enough supplies back home?"

Since Dez was in the hospital, Gob and I had taken it upon ourselves to prepare the house. Well, Gob rather taught me how to prepare the house. He called it 'baby-proofing'. All dangerous things are locked away in high places, all sharp objects locked securely in cabinets he made, and anything else harm-causing to crawling children was taken care of. He and Zack also made a crib for Dizzy, and explained to me that until she reaches about two, she has to sleep there. I had no idea, and truly I am thankful for their help. They also helped find cloths for the baby to be wrapped in, since baby clothes are not available in this day and age. Gob taught us both how to tie a diaper, and change one, what to do in case she chokes on something, and the general knowledge one needs when walking into parenthood. When I asked him how he knew all of this, or rather how he learned it, he simply said Carol and Greta were great teachers. I had a trader deliver a letter to Tenpenny Tower after that, requesting Carol to come and help with the baby in case Dez and myself proved to be incompetent. I received a reply a few days ago, and she said she would be here later in the month. By her words, I could tell she was overjoyed.

News even traveled all the way to Rivet City. About Dez's pregnancy, I mean. Barrows and Graves want to come also, and see the child as Dizzy is now the first one to be born by Barrows' pill. She's a success, and Barrows enjoys checking up on his successes. Raising Dizzy as part of a ghoul community, is something I also wish to do. I may have began as a human, but ultimately I became and remained a ghoul. Like Cain, I want my daughter to see no difference in ghouls and in humans. Her mother selflessly loves a ghoul, and if she can look past it, I know it is possible for Dizzy and Cain to do the same.

"Charon, this is how you burp her. Gob taught me the other day."

I watch as Dizzy finishes her feeding, and Dez slowly lifts her over her shoulder. She begins to gently pat her back, until a small burp emits from her mouth.

"Sometimes they spit up and throw up, Gob said, so we have to watch for that. With piss, poop, and puke, babies are lucky they're cute. Or else they'd be repulsing."

I laugh at Dez's comment, as she stares at Dizzy in her arms.

"Puppies are cuter than human babies, though. Except this baby. This baby is the cutest."

Rubbing noses with Dizzy, Dez smiles. I've never seen the look of pure maternal love on Dez's face before, and I admire it. My own mother, once looked at me that way, too.

"Charon?"

"Yeah?"

"Promise…Cain and Dizzy won't ever be orphans, like us. That we'll put them first above all else. Megaton and the Capital Wasteland fall second to them."

"I promise."

While pregnant, Dez often talked to me about how she didn't want to end up like her father. How, she never wanted to hold anything higher than her family. I know if this land needs our help, Dez and I will only go if our return is guaranteed and our children are well taken care of. Even then, the chances of us leaving them behind are slim. If Megaton were ever taken over by Raiders, the image of the four of us walking the Wasteland is not too far from my mind. Dez will hold Dizzy close, while Cain and I watch for danger.

"I'm exhausted."

She says, looking up at me. Dizzy makes another small noise. Her eyes are rolling in the back of her head, as her eyelids begin to close.

"Rock the baby."

"What?"

Dezbe dumps Dizzy into my hands, and looks up at me.

"Put her in your arms, and sway them back and forth."  
She makes a motion, her arms slowly moving back and forth gently. I nod at her, and try to mimic her.

"Not so fast, slower, Charon."

Slowing down, I stare at Dizzy. She yawns and it makes me want to laugh. The smallest things she does, creates a combustion of joy inside of me. I wonder if this will all feel common for me. Staring into the eyes of a being I helped create, this happiness, this normalcy. I was never to feel this, to experience this, and yet…I am. Right now, I have a family. I'm holding the most precious child on Earth in my arms, and putting her to sleep. This life seems to be something for another person. Something for someone deserving, and not for a man like me, who has done so many terrible things.

"Dez?"

I say quietly, afraid to wake Dizzy. Dezbe has dark circles beneath her eyes, and she looks as exhausted as she feels. Slowly, she looks at me. Resting her head against my arm, she sighs and closes her eyes, too.

"Yeah?"

"…Never mind."

"…Oh…okay."

Silently, Dezbe drifts to sleep. Her soft snores fill my quiet ears, as I sit beside her, holding the child we share. I'm still in awe, in amazement. The door to Church's opens, quietly, and Gob pokes his head through.

"Everything okay?"

He whispers to me, and I nod. Getting up, I'm careful when I walk with Dizzy in my arms.

"Look."

I tell Gob, momentarily forgetting he was in the room, when Dizzy came to life not two hours before.

"I've seen her, Charon. She's beautiful. Just like her mother, really."

Taking a finger, I smooth over Dizzy's small hairline.

"You know, Charon, I ain't never seen you this way. You're looking at that kid with more love and protection than anything you've ever looked at before. Except of course, Dez. But you get what I'm saying."

"She's my child, Gob."

"I know, I feel the same way about Zack. Should tell you, that it never goes away. Sure they grow up and get to be real assholes, but hell you love them just the same. To you they're always your baby. Even when they tell you they're all grown up and shit, it don't matter. Parenting is a lifetime thing, even when they've flown the next. Dizzy and Cain gonna be coming back to you two for every small detail and problem."

"I'm not worried about that, Gob. If anyone has two wits about them, they'll know better than to come within a ten-foot radius of my kids if they mean to do harm."

"We all know that one. It's good to finally see you happy. Lord knows you two of all people deserve it. Shit, I remember when you were a bouncer in Underworld. Ain't never seen a man so diligent and pissed off as you back then. Feels like a lifetime ago, now."

"…It does, doesn't it? When I first met Dezbe, the two of us were nothing more than naïve children with one another. Now, it feels as if we're both entirely different people."

"You are. Charon, remember when Dezbe left you at the Talon base?"

"Yeah."

"I don't think I ever told you this but, that was the first time the two of you ever parted, really. Didn't spend much time together before that happened, and still…I could see she loved you."

"How?"

"Drank herself to sleep, and drank herself awake every day you weren't with her. Probably because of the guilt she felt, but I'm guessing it was more in part of not having you around. Kid never relied on me for half as much as she relies on you."

"As much as I appreciate hearing this, why are you telling me?"

Gob sighs, and looks at Dizzy. He smoothes over her hair the same way I did, and smiles.

"Cuz now, you got two women dependant on you for survival. A man sometimes forgets this, which is why you see so many single women and children around. Your duty ain't with this town anymore, it's with them. Don't let me down, and end up getting scared at the first thee in the morning cry Dizzy makes, and take off for the hills."

"You're misjudging my character again, Gob. I wouldn't leave my family."

"I ain't saying you will. Just some men get cold feet, it's normal. Just when you do, don't run. Work through it. Dizzy, Cain and Dezbe depend on you and love you. It's a lot of responsibility for one man."

"It is a responsibility I accept with open arms."

"I'm glad to hear that."

Carol, Graves and Barrows turn up a week after Dizzy's birth. Since the sun is so intense, and Dizzy is so young, Dezbe and I take special care when we take her outside. We make sure that she's shaded, and kept cool by soaking her in pure water. Although water attracts light, it's better than her overheating. Whilst Dez keeps an overprotective eye on Dizzy, not letting her go from her arms, I watch Cain play as Barrows and Carol swoon over the life we've made.

"She's beautiful, Charon."

Carol says, smiling at me. She shouldn't have left Tenpenny, with her age beginning to show.

"Thank you."

I say in reply, glancing back at her. Dezbe refuses to let anyone hold her, until we're safely inside. That's later, though. We can't overlook Cain, and have to let him have his time in the spotlight as well. His playtime cannot be compromised for the baby. Dezbe says this can have a negative effect on him in the long run. She claims to treat them both as equals, is the best bet, and hope Cain understands that Dizzy needs a lot more attention than he does.

"So let me get this right. Cain is basically your close, and Dizzy is your daughter?"

Barrows has yet to swallow the idea of Cain. Albeit it is difficult to comprehend, it is still reality.  
"That is true. Cain was created from my DNA."

"And you're raising them as siblings?"

"Is there something wrong with that?"

Behind us, Carol, Graves and Dez talk about things in the secret language of women. The language that us men cannot learn. Barrows lights a cigarette before answering me, and in turn I mimic him.

"They're not blood related, and in the same sense they are. With Cain being your copy, he shares one-hundred percent of your DNA, whilst Dizzy, only half. Together that's seventy-five percent."

"I am not following, Barrows."

He gives me a worried look, and sighs deeply. There has not been worry or sadness for such a time, I know I don't want it now.

"I'm concerned since without complete blood relation on both sides, it may complicate things in the future."

"How?"

"Cain will be exactly like you would have been without training. As you are now, if not an improved version since you're still restrained. With Dizzy holding such a semblance to Dezbe, and being female, feelings are more than possible to happen. Personalities match up, just as yours and Dezbe's did. It concerns me, on if this is medically healthy."

I understand his worry now. Understand his viewpoints, and I admit I did not think of that. Somehow, it does not worry me, as much as it worries him.

"I will love them the same, whatever their future choices may be. If they are happy, it is not incest. Dez could have birthed a child without me, and I could have left with Cain. If that had happened, and in the future met, than they would feel the same ties to one another as Dezbe and I once did. Either way, I can look forward to them getting along, and protecting one another."

"You're laid back about this."

"Because I've come to understand, one cannot restrain feelings. If Dizzy and Cain find themselves in love, there is nothing I can do but be happy for them, and happy that both found a partner worthy enough."

"They're close in DNA, it may not happen. It was a theory I simply said aloud."

"I see no fault, if they do or do not. They, as far as they both are aware, are siblings. I will raise them as such."

"Will you tell Dizzy everything one day?"

"Cain will know the truth, as he already knows Dezbe didn't mother him. Dizzy, will not be as knowledgeable."

"Why?"

"Because there are some things I do not wish for my daughter to know. It is better to keep her sheltered, from what her mother and I once did, and who truly created her sibling."

"She'll find out the truth in time."  
"If she comes to be anything like Dezbe, than I know that knowing the past of her parents will cause her to walk the same path. I do not wish to risk it."

"I understand."

The subject is dropped, and for that I'm thankful. For the moment, I want to enjoy this. I know firsthand, how short time is. How three centuries can fly by so quickly, and the memories within them can blur. Dizzy and Cain won't be this young forever. Enjoying it all while it lasts, the good parts and the bad, is all I can do right now.

Turning around, I steal a glance at Dez. She holds the baby close to her, smiling, her eyes bright and wide. She catches me looking at her, and smiles at me. That smile, is the one I've been waiting to see, for such a long, long time. I can't wait, for everyone to leave, and for Dezbe and I to enjoy what we have. A family, love, and a safe place to do everything in. For the first time in my life, I'm proud of myself, for what I've done, and what came of everything.


End file.
